


Blue Eyes and Tattooed Lines

by SereneCalamity



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, F/M, Happy Ending, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Tattoo Artist!Clarke, mechanic!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:44:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 61,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneCalamity/pseuds/SereneCalamity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the Princess of the local MC, which should make her completely and utterly off limits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys ! Thought I'd find out what you thought of this :)

Bellamy Blake snorted as he watched Monty Green strike out for the third time that evening. It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet but the kid clearly had absolutely no game. Bellamy looked over to where Monty's best friend and partner in crime was sitting, drunk off his face and giggling like a teenage girl. There were times like these when Bellamy wondered exactly what he was doing with these two as part of his business, given the rest of them were older and a hell of a lot more serious.

But they were smart.

And they provided well needed comic relief.

"Do you think the kid is a virgin?" Nathan Miller asked as he lifted his drink to his lips.

"Uh, I would eat my own fucking arm if that kid _wasn't_ a virgin," Bellamy replied with a grin, throwing back the rest of his own drink.

"I heard that!" Monty slurred, looking over at the two of them as he walked back over to the bar where they were sitting. "And I'm not! Well...Partly not!" Miller and Bellamy both let out laughs.

"I'm pretty sure you either _are_ or you _aren't_ ," Bellamy stated.

"My heart isn't a virgin," Monty declared, putting a hand to his chest and tilting his head to the side, blinking across at Bellamy and Miller earnestly.

"I think he means virgin with your penis," Jasper said in a stage whisper.

"Oh, for fucks sakes," Bellamy rolled his eyes as he held up his hand to hail down the bartender. "We cannot take you two out in public when there's alcohol involved."

"Or sugar," Miller added with a sigh. "These two are like a couple of preteens."

"That's because they practically _are_ preteens," Bellamy said.

"I object to that!" Jasper cried, slamming his fist down on the counter top.

"I second that motion!" Monty slammed his fist down as well. Bellamy and Miller exchanged looks and shook their heads as the two younger boys both looked at each other and started giggling, clearly distracted.

"Can I get another whiskey?" Bellamy asked and the girl smiled at him, nodding before turning back to the bar. Monty and Jasper were going off on some other tangent, sounding like they were making a 'plan of attack' to hit on their next target— _woman_. Miller said something under his breath about going to the bathroom and Bellamy nodded as his drink was slid over to him. He swirled it around before taking a sip and then looking around the bar. It was pretty busy for a small place, but then it was a Friday night, so most of the city was looking for somewhere to drink and let loose.

"Hey, what about her?" Jasper hissed over at Monty. Bellamy glanced over his shoulder to where the two were looking and then let out a snort when he saw the girls that he had an eye on.

"Yeah, right," he laughed. "Good luck with that one—with any of them."

"Oh, come on," Jasper gave him a look of mock-outrage. "You think that my brother from another mother can't score with at least one of those girls?"

"First of all, don't _ever_ say that again," Bellamy stated with a raised eyebrow. "And second, no. No I don't _either_ of you could score with any of those girls and _especially_ with _that_ girl." There may have been four girls standing there, but it wasn't hard to know which one Bellamy was indicating to.

"Now that's a challenge if I ever heard one," Monty rubbed his hands together. "And I'm always down for a challenge." He slid off his barstool and ran his hand through his hair. Jasper patted his on the shoulder encouragingly.

"You know he's going to fail...Epically, right?" Bellamy said, spinning his booth around and leaning over both elbows back on the bar top, watching as Monty walked over to the group of girls who were standing on the opposite side of the pool table. Bellamy wasn't a hundred percent certain which girl Monty was going for, but they were all far out of his league, especially the one who was clearly the ring leader, who was standing in the middle. Usually, Bellamy didn't pay any attention to girls who travelled in packs—most of the time, they were snooty and conceited and not worth an ounce of his attention, but this one looked a little different.

She wasn't stick thin, and she was drinking beer, and she wasn't wearing a dress that looked as though it might have been a belt in another life.

She was actually damn hot.

There was actually something that felt a little familiar about her, but he shrugged it off. He used to come to this bar a lot, and she looked like she might have been a regular—he had probably fantasized about her once or twice.

"You guys actually sent him over there?" Miller appeared back at Bellamy's side. "That kid is going to be chewed up and spat back out. You know who that blonde is, right?"

"Apparently I challenged him," Bellamy shrugged, not looking too bothered. "And no. Who is it?"

"She's the daughter of—"

"Guys," Jasper interrupted, looked like he was in complete wonderment. "Are you watching this?" Bellamy glanced over at him and then looked back over to Monty, who was now looking like he was having almost a good time? The blonde girl in charge was grinning warmly at him, and the two brunette's at her side were laughing, all of them looking surprisingly genuine. There was a fourth girl, with dirty blonde hair, who was walking over to them with a tray of shots. The girls all laughed and cheered, and then one of the brunette's held out of the shots out to Monty. Monty looked as surprised as the rest of them and the cheesy smile he sent over to them almost made Miller choke on his drink.

"Looks like maybe the man did it," Bellamy smirked. "Good on him."

"Hey, Bellamy," Miller's voice was low and almost warning, which completely different from the way they had been joking and laughing all evening. Bellamy looked over to where Miller was nodding, and he put down his tumbler back down.

"Some people just can't handle their drink," Bellamy sighed as he looked over at the two men who looked as though they were about to start an argument. Even with the music that was playing, and the talking from the other occupants of the bar, their voices were slowly rising. One of the bouncers looked over at them, clearly keeping an eye on the situation, waiting to see if it was going to escalate. It looked like it _was_ going to end up in a fight, one of the men clenching his hand into a fist at his side.

"The bouncers got this, boss," Jasper said, holding up his fingers in the air and flickering them to get the attention of the pretty bartender. "Let's just have a night out where we don't have to do any physical work."

"Didn't realize you knew _how_ to do physical work," Bellamy said, managing to sound sarcastic despite the concern that was etched on his face.

"Now that's just insulting—" Jasper was cut off as the first punch was thrown. Bellamy's body to the join in, but he remained seated, watching as the two bouncers walked over to the burly men who were now shouting and throwing fists at each other. One of the bouncers was thrown to the side, close to where Monty was standing with the girls. Bellamy noted with concern that none of the girls took steps back, like people normally would in that position. In fact, the blonde narrowed her eyes and took half a step forward, as though to get out in front of her friends.

"These people are meant to be bouncers?" Bellamy shook his head as the second man caught a right hook in the chin. "Where do they get their training?"

"I don't think they do get training," Miller turned his head to the side as the bouncers managed to get one of the men pinned down and were shouting at the other one. The second man was drunk and looked like he was going to try and go after the first man again. He stumbled backwards, getting just a little too close to the four girls and Monty. He was pulling back his fist when suddenly the blonde girl jabbed her elbow in his side, making him grunt in pain, and then when he looked back at her, she threw her fist into his face, blood spurting from his nose.

"Oh. My. God," Jasper gasped out, picking up his drink and watching like an entranced child. "I think I love her." The punch had caught him off guard, and was enough for him to be subdued by the fumbling bouncers. "I'm gonna _beg_ Murphy to introduce us." Bellamy frowned as he realized that Jasper knew who the blonde was as well, and even more so, John Murphy.

"I'm not gonna lie," Miller said with raised eyebrows. "I'm pretty hard for her right now." Bellamy didn't say anything, his eyes still locked on the blonde, who was shaking out her hand and turning back to her friends. Monty was blinking at them, a similar expression on his face to the one on Jasper's.

"I think this might be a night for me, boys," Bellamy said, finishing off his drink and standing up. His friends looked surprised as he pulled his leather jacket on and flicked out the collar.

"It's still early," Miller commented. "You're not going to try and find someone to take home?" Bellamy looked once more over to Monty and the girls, and especially the blonde, before shaking his head.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow morning," Bellamy said, putting two fingers to his forehead and saluting the two before heading outside. It was busy on the street, people looking drunk and clutching at each other to try and remain upright. The night air was cold, which was refreshing from the stuffy warmth inside the bar, and he took in a couple of deep breaths.

"Did it get too exciting in there for you?" Came a question from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder. It was the blonde, leaning against the wall of the bar with a cigarette in her hand and a foot propped up against the concrete behind her. He hadn't even realized that she had left the bar. She must've walked out while he was saying goodbye to the boys.

"Didn't look like it was too exciting for you," Bellamy replied, turning around to face her properly, a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked her up and down. She was wearing black skinny jeans and a long sleeved dark blue shirt with a deep v-neck, showing off her cleavage, with a cropped leather jacket over the top. She wasn't wearing too much makeup, although her eyes and eyelids were lined darkly and there was a hint of red on her full mouth.

"Eh," she shrugged one shoulder. "Some people just can't handle their drink," she repeated his earlier sentiment as she lifted the cigarette to her mouth. They were quiet for a few minutes before Bellamy decided to just go for it.

"I'm Bellamy," he said, sticking out his hand.

"I'm Clarke," she replied with a half smile, gripping his hand and shaking it firmly. She was wearing about seven different rings, including one on her pointer finger that looked like it weighed a couple of kilograms by itself, with intricate designs wrapped around the letter G. He gave her hand a squeeze before dropping his hand back to his side.

"Is that a family ring?" He asked, nodding down to her hand. There was something about the ring that was familiar but he couldn't quite place it. He would blame it on the alcohol, because usually he was pretty good with remembering things like that.

"Something like that," Clarke nodded. She opened her mouth to continue when the door opened and a man came out, giving a narrow eyed look at Bellamy before turning to Clarke.

"You good, Clarke?" He asked.

"I'm fine, Finn. I'll come back in in a sec," she told him with a half smile. He nodded back at her before turning around and heading into the bar. Bellamy frowned as he saw what was on the back of the denim vest that he was wearing, a patch announcing _Phantoms MC._ His whole body tensed, but before he could process it fully, Clarke dropped her cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with the heel of her boot. "It was good meeting you, Bellamy."

"Yeah, you too," Bellamy said to her, not able to hold back the slightly clipped tone. She didn't seem to notice though.

"I'll see around," Clarke smiled at him before walking back into the club.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you for the response to the first chapter :)

Bellamy walked into his penthouse apartment, taking off his jacket and putting it on the hook behind the door. He toed off his boots as he locked his door and then dropped his keys onto the table beside the door. He walked through the lounge and into his bedroom. He was still getting used to being back in this city, Ark, and all the memories that came with it. Seeing the patch on the man's vest had brought back a whole lot of things that he had been trying to suppress—actually it was the whole reason he had left the city to begin with.

The Phantoms were the local MC—motorcycle gang—and they pretty much ran this city. They had connections in all the right places, with the cops, the justice system, almost all the high society ties in the city. Most of what they did was illegal, although they had a couple of businesses that were legit; a strip club, a couple of car garages scattered around the place, a gun range. Mainly because they needed businesses that were on the book so that they could launder their dirty money through them.

Bellamy didn't outright have anything against the MC.

Most of them were good people, even if they were a little rough around the edges, and they were loyal to a fault to anyone that did them right. Even the illegal side of things, Bellamy didn't really have anything against that. There was trouble in every town, and it was generally better to have someone who kept the rest of the criminals in line.

But then there were the times when things got a little out of control, and when Bellamy got dragged into it...That was when he had a problem with them.

Two years ago, Jake Griffin had been killed.

It had been brutal and senseless. There was almost always a club rivalry going on. And one of Red Demons had come onto their territory and caught Jake when he was unaware, at home with his wife, Abby Griffin, and killed him.

Most of the time, Bellamy would leave it alone.

It was club business.

But Jake had been good to his younger sister, Octavia Blake, and he owed him a debt for that. When Bellamy was eighteen, he had signed up to join the army. It was the best thing for him at the time, and while he still didn't regret it, things with Octavia were hard. She was a few years younger than him, and their mother, Aurora Blake, worked long hours as a single mother, to put food on the table. Now without anyone to supervise her during the evenings, Octavia would go out late and had started hanging around with older boys.

On one of his trips home, Bellamy had seen the type of lifestyle that Octavia was living in secret, and he had wanted nothing more than to drop out of the army and stay home to fix her up. But he had an obligation to fulfil, and a contract, and that wasn't an option. So when Jake had found him, drinking away his sorrows in a bar, he had offered to keep an eye on her. Keep her out of trouble. He understood what he was going through because he had a daughter about the same age.

So he had joined the hunt for the killer, and given his connections, he had managed to find the man. Instead of handing him over to the cops, he gave him over The Phantoms, and left him to them to serve their own kind of justice. The killer had never been heard of again, and Jake Griffin's murder was marked as unsolved on the official police record.

He had a hard time the weeks following when he slept at night, knowing that he had hadn't someone over to be killed. He threw himself into his work, and things with his girlfriend, Echo Teles, had gone from bad to worse. There had been some strain on their relationship for a while, due to the fact she was a bitch that really only cared about herself. Their days left were numbered, and after everything happened and he began loosing sleep, his temper and patience shortening, they were over.

It was Octavia's idea that maybe he take a break from the city, get away for a little bit.

And it had been good for him.

When he had been honourably discharged from the army, he had started his own mechanical engineering garage, with two of the other men in his squad; Lincoln Whittle and Miller. He had planned on just making it the three of them, but then they realized they were going to needed to expand when things got a little bit busier. That was when Jasper and Monty had come into it. They were a couple of years younger than them, and acted even younger, but somehow they just slotted themselves easily in with them. John Murphy, a guy that Bellamy had gone to school with, had been the next to join. Octavia had finished a business degree at University and was having difficulty finding job that was permanent, flitting from one place to another, temping. As the garage became bigger, the book work started getting on top of Bellamy's limited knowledge, so he had hired her.

O wasn't just a little girl anymore though. She was strong, and toughened, and she could handle herself well. It had turned out that while Jake was keeping her out of trouble, his daughter had also been taking her to the gun range and taking her to classes at the local gym to learn how to defend herself, and giving her more 'productive' ways to burn her anger and frustration. Bellamy had never met this daughter, and that was probably a good thing, because he would have several words to exchange with the girl who put a gun in his sisters hand, and not good ones at that.

When he had moved out of the city, he had taken Miller with him, and they had expanded on the business. There were now two branches of Blakes Motors, and he had to admit, he was pretty damn proud of what he had accomplished. It was good to get out of Ark, but he and Miller had both been more than ready to come back after two years, and he left a man he trusted in charge of his second firm.

Which brought him to where he was now.

His third month back in Ark, and he had managed to keep himself level headed. It was good being back with his boys, with Octavia—although he wasn't so happy about the relationship that she and Lincoln had started while he was away. Sometimes when he was out on a job or just walking down the street, he would see a motorbike go past and catch a glimpse of the vest declaring The Phantoms, but he had done his best to look the other way.

He had cleared his debt with them, and he didn't want to go back there again.

Bellamy brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face before going back into his bedroom. He unzipped his jeans and kicked them into the corner of the room, and then started unbuttoning his shirt. On his inner right bicep, in a scrawl, was the tattoo _I Still Rise_ , inspired by the poem penned by Maya Angelou. He dropped his shirt, and more ink was revealed. Across his left bicep, this one on the outside, were the words _Brothers in Arms, Brothers til the End_ , which was the same tattoo the rest of his squad had gotten, when they had all signed up for a second tour, which was just below Octavia's. One of the men had died only a few months later, and that name was tattooed just above his hip. On his back was an intricately tattooed raven. It had taken him a couple of sittings to have it finished. The wings stretched out across his back, reaching across his shoulders, and the neck tilting up toward his head.

He dropped to his bed, setting his alarm for just a couple of hours time and then closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he tried to settle to sleep.

* * *

"Well that was a good time," Raven Reyes stated with a laugh as they walked into Clarke Griffin's home. Clarke looked over at her friend with a grin as she stripped off her jacket and dropped it onto the sofa. "You know Finn wanted to jump in there as soon as the bar fight started—all big protector man to the rescue." Clarke sighed and looked over at Raven with a pointed gaze. "Hey, I'm just saying!" Raven put her hands up, palms out, to show she didn't mean any offence.

"We're better off friends, Reyes," Clarke muttered as she walked toward the kitchen and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. She poured herself a glass of water and then found a box of panadol out as well, taking steps to ward off the hangover the next morning. She threw back two of the pills and washed it down with water. "You want?" She asked, holding up the half finished glass to Raven.

"Yep," Raven nodded and walked over, her gait slightly off due to an accident she had had back when she was a teenager. "Ooh, who was that hottie that went outside after you?"

"He said his name was Bellamy," Clarke replied. Raven stopped and gave her a look.

"As in Bellamy Blake?" Raven clarified.

"I think so," Clarke pursed her lips. "He kind of looks like Vee."

"Except way fucking hotter," Raven stated. "Like _way_ fucking hotter." Clarke laughed and ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair. The smile quickly disappeared off her face as she thought back to the man she had met that night. Raven saw the look in her face change, and she reached out for her friends hand, gripping it and squeezing.

"Just makes me think of him," Clarke murmured.

"I know," Raven said. "Kane said that Bellamy was a big part of getting the fucker who did it."

"Bellamy _caught_ the man who killed him," Clarke corrected. "Kane and the rest of them just...Did the rest."

"Mm," Raven hummed out, not too sure if she liked where this conversation was going. Clarke and her father, Jake, had been close, and his death, almost two and a half years ago, had been hard on her. But Clarke was one of those strong types who kept everything bottled inside. At least, until she had enough vodka in her system to make her loosen up, and then all her feelings came spilling out in a big mess. She hadn't had any of those melt downs recently, and Raven was wondering if coming face to face unintentionally with the man who had caught the man who had been responsible for the death of Jake was going to trigger something. But then she was blinking and visibly pulling herself together, and Raven knew that she was getting control of herself again.

"You want a shower or anything before we crash?" Clarke asked. Raven walked over the sink, rinsing out her cup and tipping it upside down.

"Shit no! I just want to crash," she said. "Wick is going to be here just after nine. That gives me..." Raven checked her phone. "About five hours of sleep."

"I'm going to be so fucked tomorrow," Clarke muttered. "Good thing I don't have work."

"Lucky for some," Raven sneered at her best friend and Clarke smirked back. "Okay! To bed!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think :) xx


	3. Chapter 3

Most of the time, they didn't work on Saturdays, but there had been a bunch of jobs that the all seemed to fall in the last few days of the week, and all of the owners wanted it done as soon as possible. They were all happy to pay the extra fees to cover the extra weekend wages, so there was no way he was going to turn it down. It did however mean that a couple of the boys were hungover and things were moving at a slower speed than they would usually. It was now almost lunch, and they were all ready for a break, a strong coffee and a cigarette. Bellamy sighed as he tried to turn over the engine of the car and it once again just sputtered and refused. He got out of the car and looked under the hood, reaching down to pick up a wrench from the trolley nearby.

"Heard you had some fun at the bar the other night," John Murphy called from the entrance way of the garage where he was smoking a cigarette.

"Eh, not really," Bellamy shrugged as he buried himself under the hood of the car.

"You met Clarke," Murphy continued. Bellamy frowned at the mention of the blonde girl he had met outside the bar. He straightened up and looked over at John.

"Right," he remembered back to when they were at the bar and the boys had mentioned that Murphy had known her. "Yeah, just for a minute. How do you know her? I remember the boys mentioning that you knew her."

"I know her," Murphy raised his eyebrows, jerking his head to the side to throw his floppy fringe out of his face. "So do you." Bellamy looked over at him questioningly. "Clarke Griffin," Murphy expanded and Bellamy's eyebrows pulled together. "Yeah. As in, _Jake_ Griffin's daughter."

"Oh, shit," Bellamy muttered, bracing his arms against the car he was working on.

"Yup," Murphy nodded as he dropped the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with his boot. "Haven't you seen the photos of her and Vee on Facebook? They're still really good friends."

"I am _not_ friends with Vee on Facebook," Bellamy reminded him with a grimace. Murphy looked confused for a moment before letting out a laugh.

"Oh right. The whole Halloween incident of 2014," he smirked.

"That's it, and it's nothing I'm going to risk a repeat of that," Bellamy snipped. Murphy was still smirking, but he didn't say anything further on the matter. Octavia was usually pretty good with keeping herself acting PC around Bellamy, not mentioning her love life and wearing clothes that didn't show off enough skin to make him scrutinize her. But Halloween of 2014, she had gone to a party dressed as a zombie ballerina. Completely standard and cliché. Except then she had gotten drunk and ended up being a zombie bikini model, with the bikini fashioned out of her bra and underwear. She had been tagged in countless photos and a number of them were in compromising situation with Lincoln.

Bellamy had unfriended and blocked her, not wanting to risk another photo popping up on his newsfeed on the couple of times a month that he actually logged on.

"Right, well, yeah, we're friends," Murphy was continuing their earlier conversation. "I didn't know who she was when I first saw her. I was at a bar and there was this hot blonde chick in this sexy as shit black dress that showed off all the right places." Bellamy rolled his eyes at his friends crude description but didn't interupt. "She looked like the perfect kind of one night stand; pretty drunk, kind of depressed and mopey—sort of like she had just broke up with her boyfriend, ya know?"

"You're so full of class," Bellamy muttered.

"So I went over to her and started talking, and she started by telling me to fuck off, which I found pretty hot—"

"You always were a sucker for a bit of masochism."

"Well, I thought about trying it for a little bit longer, ya know, try and get her to change her mind, and then she pulled a gun on me," Murphy let out a laugh and Bellamy's eyebrows shot upward in surprise. "Yeah. As in, right in the middle of this bar, while she is drunk and she can barely hold the thing steady, but she is still threatening me with this gun."

"Shit," Bellamy breathed.

"I disarmed her and offered to take her home. Not much of a soldier if I let a drunk girl walk around the streets with a gun, right?" Murphy's expression had slipped into a much more serious one. "I got her in a cab, and then on the way back to her apartment, she dropped her bag or purse or whatever and her ID fell out. Clarke Griffin. I saw her ring as well, and then it didn't take much to put her together with Jake. It was also only a month or so after the funeral, so that's why she was a mess."

"Right," Bellamy pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, studying Murphy. He thought for a moment, remembering back to the ring that he had seen on Clarke's finger when they had shook hands. He knew that he had seen the ring before; it wasn't the kind of ring that a pretty girl would typically wear just for show. "So you _didn't_ sleep with her?"

"I didn't sleep with her," Murphy confirmed. "I know, I know, it must have been hard for her to resist me for so long, but somehow we've managed this whole platonic thing that I've got going with Vee." Bellamy rolled his eyes but then let out a long sigh, running his fingers through his curly hair.

"So it's been, what...Two years, if it was only a month after Jake's funeral. Does she know who you are? Does she know who _I_ am?"

"Undoubtedly," Murphy nodded.

"Then why did she act as though we were meeting for the first time?"

"You _were_ meeting for the first time," Murphy grunted. "I mean, if she was drinking, maybe she didn't recognize you. The only photos that Vee has of you—because you're so camera shy—are from the army, and your hair was a lot shorter. Your hair is longer now."

"Mm, maybe," Bellamy pursed his lips, but didn't look all that convinced. Murphy shrugged and then walked over to a Porsche that he was working on.

"You're back for good now, though, right? I'm sure you'll see her again and you can ask her then."

* * *

"Yo, yo, yo!" Octavia Blake shouted, making her usual big entrance as she pushed open the side door for the tattoo parlor that Clarke managed. The place was empty, and the front room was dark, other than the light coming through the parts of the windows that wasn't disturbed by paint. "Clarke? You here?!"

"The door wouldn't be unlocked if I wasn't!" Came a shout in reply, and Octavia walked toward the back room, where it was a whole lot more light. There were windows all along the top of the walls in here, and there were heavy duty lights that were required for her line of work. Clarke was sitting at her desk in the corner of the room, wearing a pair of minishorts and a tank top, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. "Hey, girl," she said absent-mindedly.

"What's going on?" Octavia grinned back at her and walked over, collapsing into the big leather seat in the centre of the room and tipping back into the curve of it's back. She always loved this chair, it was so comfortable. And it should be, for the price that Clarke had paid for it. "What are you working on?"

"A new design," Clarke muttered, throwing down the pencil she had been holding. "I just can't get it right."

"You'll get there," Octavia assured her. "You always end up with a perfect end result. That's why you're the top tattoo artist in town."

"Damn straight," Clarke gave her friend a lop sided smirk. "So what are you doing here? Don't you usually spend Saturday's with your gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend?"

"Bellamy made him work today," Octavia pouted. "He wasted no time in taking back over the garage, although that was to be expected. He doesn't like not being the one in charge. And it must be an army thing or something, because whenever Bellamy is around, they just fall in line. I told you that he was back, right?"

"Only about three hundred times," Clarke smirked. "That's kind of all you've talked about for the past month or so."

"No, but he's actually _back_ back now. Like I'm not just talking about how he's _coming_ back, he's _actually_ back!" Octavia looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. "He's been back since last Sunday."

"Which is why you missed our Sunday brunch," Clarke nodded. "And yeah, I kinda know that he's back."

"Oh, really?" The brunette raised an eyebrow.

"I saw him last night, at a club," Clarke said slowly, turning around in her stool and looking over at her friend. Octavia's eyes were wide in surprise and Clarke made a face. "I was going to text you today, but then I came into work and I got distracted." She jerked her chin back to the desk where her sketch pad was open and Octavia nodded, knowing that Clarke could loose sense of time when she was drawing.

"I'm guessing you didn't talk to him," Octavia assumed.

"Uh, I did," the blonde tilted her head to the side as she crossed her arms over her chest and made a face. "But I didn't tell him, ya know...Who I was. I just gave him a first name."

"I'm surprised he didn't recognize you from any photos," Octavia mused.

"I barely recognized him, to be fair," Clarke offered. "He looks different with the curly hair, than that buzz cut. Cuter," she gave a half smile and Octavia rolled her eyes. "He introduced himself when he came out of the club and I was already outside having a cigarette. But I wasn't exactly going to tell him that I knew...There was no way in hell outside a club and a few drinks in is a good time to share the history we have. Hey, my dad was killed and you helped track down the fucker who did it," her voice had a bitter twinge to it. Octavia twisted mouth in sympathy and then tried to lighten the situation.

"Well that's how you became friends with Murphy. Maybe it's not all that bad, the whole outside of club and a few drinks in," she said.

"Really?" Clarke let out a short laugh but her face looked a bit more relaxed. "You're going to use Murphy as an example?" Octavia cringed and scrunched up her nose, laughing along with her friend.

"Okay, maybe not the best example," she agreed. "Although you like him. You know you do."

"Yeah, but I have a thing for the rough kinda guy," Clarke grinned. "Anyway, we want to head down to the gun range? Keep Raven company?"

"Sounds like fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you guys think :)


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke ran her fingers through her hair as she pulled her car over to the side of the road. It was a little after eight and she should have been here earlier but she was the boss; so the shop opened when she got there. Her first appointment wasn't until eight-thirty, so she had time to get all of her instruments ready before her client arrived. She unlocked the front door, blowing a bubble with her gum as she took the handbag off her shoulder and dumped it behind the counter before walking into her back room. She turned on some music and hummed away as she flicked through her sketch pad to find the design that she was going to be tattooing that day.

"Yo!" Came a shout from the front room. "Griffin—you here, girl?!" Clarke frowned as she walked over to doorway and then shook her head.

"What ya doing here, Murphy?" She asked with a grin.

"Came to say 'hi'," he said as he sauntered in. "Just stopping by on the way to work." He joined her in the back room and she approached him. He grinned as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You're looking hot," he wiggled an eyebrow at her as they pulled apart and she rolled her eyes.

"And you're a perve," she told him, but she didn't sound at all bothered.

"I heard that you met Bellamy," Murphy said, leaning against the counter and looking over at her.

"Ah, did he talk about me?" Clarke stuck out her lower lip and batted her eyelashes. "Does he think I'm _pretty_ , John?"

"You're a dick," Murphy laughed at the sugary sweet voice that she put on. "Nah, he just wanted to know how we knew each other. The boys had told them that we were friends and he was just...Surprised?"

"Surprised that you have friends?" Clarke smirked and poked out her tongue. "I can understand that."

"I take back the dick comment, you're a bitch, you know that?" Murphy raised an eyebrow and Clarke's smirk widened. " _No_ , I meant that he was more surprised that we were friends who hadn't slept together."

"Did you tell him that you've been trying to get in my pants every single day since we first met?"

"I was a total gentlemen!" Murphy protested.

"I'm pretty sure you were sick that first day or something, because you've been a creep every since," Clarke winked at him. "Anyway, I need to get ready. But we need to meet up for drinks soon, yeah? You wanna do coffee on Friday?" Murphy gave her a pained look and winced.

"Coffee? Do I _look_ like one of your girlfriends?"

"You wish you were one of my girlfriends," Clarke grinned. Murphy laughed and shook his head. She was feisty, and she was quick, and that was one of the many reasons that he kept her around.

"Okay, coffee on Friday, but you have to promise to make it up to me by being my wing woman sometime soon?" He compromised.

"I promise," Clarke sung out to him as she went back to her sketch pad.

* * *

It was almost two weeks later before Bellamy saw Clarke again.

And it definitely wasn't on one of his better days.

He and the boys had been working long hours that week; there had just been one customer after another every day and they had been pulling twelve hour days since Tuesday. It was now Friday, and Bellamy had made an executive decision that they should all knock off at six because they definitely deserved it. Bellamy was still the last one out, and he had been locking up when he heard someone calling his name from across the street.

Echo Teles.

Bellamy had been surprised, because it had been almost four months since he was back in the town and he hadn't seen her once. He had actually wondered if she had moved, but he had pointedly not asked Octavia or Jasper. He hadn't want to encourage any kind of conversation around her. She had crossed the road and flirted with him, running her fingers through her hair like she always used to.

For about two milli-seconds, Bellamy could see the girl that he had fallen for right at the beginning of their relationship.

But then he quickly saw the reason he broke up with her when she snippily asked him why he hadn't told her that he was back in town. Bellamy had seen the way her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed and it had instantly put him on the defensive. He had tried to keep his voice light and nonabrasive, but all he wanted to do was put distance between them. She clearly picked up on this because she was soon talking exactly like she used; all entitled and snappy and grinding his gears.

Bellamy had managed to escape her not too long after but it had made his mood even worse. As he got behind the wheel of his car and got ready to go home, it made him want to do something that he hadn't done in a while.

Shoot a gun.

There was a gun shop and range not too far from his garage, near the edge of town. It was run by the Phantoms, but that was something that he could get over. Besides, it wasn't like they would recognize him. His involvement with them around the time of Jake's murder was only known by a couple of the members, and he also looked a lot different that he did two years ago. He parked up outside and headed into the building, shoving his keys into the front pocket of his jeans. The place looked exactly the same as it did a few years ago, when he had last been here, albeit a little bit tidier.

And the reason for that seemed to be the fact there was a girl in charge. She was standing behind the counter, looking bored out of her mind as she waited for the customers in front of her to stop giggling and pushing each other. The girl behind the counter was rolling her eyes and looked ready to take one of the guns out from the shelf behind her and blow her own brains out. There was something about her that actually looked quite familiar, but maybe it was just the bored, pissed off expression on her face that was almost identical to the one that his sister got when she was in a mood.

"Okay, listen up," she finally said, slapping her hand down on the counter and drawing the attention of the couple in front of her. "Either you're here to use the range or not, it's simple as that." The couple exchanged looks and made faces at each other. From what Bellamy could gather, the boy had brought his girlfriend here to try out the gun range, but she wasn't too keen on it. And she was being whiny about it, which made Bellamy relate to the way that the brunette behind the counter was looking at them.

"Aw," the girlfriend pouted and looked up at her boyfriend. "I think I still need to decide. It's kind of a scary decision, you know?" Her voice sounded all breathy and squeaky as she tried to look all innocent and vulnerable and Bellamy almost threw up a little bit in his mouth at the way her boyfriend cooed down at her.

"Well you guys decide, and once you stop being nauseating, let me know," the woman behind the counter said flatly and then lifted her eyes to look over their shoulders to Bellamy, giving him a once over before raising an eyebrow at him. He couldn't help but grin as he stepped forward.

He liked her.

"I want half an hour in a lane," he told her as he stepped forward and pulled out his wallet to show her his gun licence. Anyone could come here and shoot a gun—pretty much anyone could come here and even _buy_ a gun—which was proven by the idiots beside him, but to just walk in and be let loose without any show and tell, she needed to be able to see his licence. But she didn't even bother to run the numbers, or even look at the little piece of plastic, just appraised him and shrugged.

"I know who you are, Blake. You're all good," she told him and Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise. "I'll walk you through." Bellamy followed after her, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

"How do you know who I am?" He asked her as they started down the long, darkened hallway toward the actual range itself. He could already hear the muffled sounds of gunfire and the smell of smoke, and it made his body tingle in a way that was most definitely not healthy. But right now he was concentrating on the brunette in front of him, who had a slight limp, but wasn't slowing down the quick gait she had that made him walk briskly to keep up.

"Well, for one, I was with Clarke the night at the bar a few weeks ago, when that fight broke out?" She said and Bellamy realized that was why she looked familiar. "And also, I'm friends with Octavia. So I've heard about you and seen pictures and shit." Friends with Clarke and Octavia and also working at the gun range. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that she was mixed up in Phantoms way of life, but Bellamy wasn't going to ask that right now.

"Okay, uh, well, can I know your name?"

"I'm Raven," she told him, reaching the locker room that held the guns, ammo and gear used when entering the firing range. "Pick your gun and get your gear. I assume you know what you need, army man." Bellamy nodded, picking out a weapon, a 9 mm, as well as a couple of magazines, ear plugs along with a pair of earmuffs and then letting her lead the way through the heavy set door. There were several people who were already in lanes and Raven pointed to the second to last one and told him to pay on his way out before leaving him to it. He looked down at the weapon in his hand and turned it over a few times, before loading it. He was about to cover his ears when the paper target in the lane next to him came sliding forward, a cluster of holes in the heart of the target. Bellamy raised his eyebrows in appreciation and took a step back to look into the lane next to him.

And was greeted by the sight of a curvy blonde, who was just taking off her earmuffs and bouncing her head to the music coming from her headphones, which had been tucked underneath the protective gear. Bellamy knew that it was _her_ even before she turned o face him. She unclipped her target and folded the paper over until it was a square, and then tossed it in the bin. She unloaded her weapon well, as though it was something she did everyday, and then turned around and met his gaze.

"Bellamy," she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Clarke," he nodded at her. They stared at each other for a moment before Clarke let out a short laugh and tapped her fingers against the weapon in her hand.

"Murphy said that you were talking about me," she gave him a cheeky half smile. Bellamy felt his cheeks heat up as he shook his head.

"Murphy's always running his mouth," he huffed out, looking a little embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Clarke laughed, this time a real laugh, longer and fuller, and it made Bellamy grin wider at her. "Anyway, I'm heading off. Um, are you going to that thing of Vee's next week?"

"Her house warming dinner?" Bellamy nodded. "Even if I didn't want to go, my sister can be very persuasive." Clarke laughed again, and Bellamy knew that even if he could say no to his sister somehow, there was no way he was going to pass up a chance to hear her laugh like that. It came right from in her stomach and it washed over him in a way that he couldn't explain.

"Then I'll see you there," Clarke put two fingers to her forehead and gave him a mock salute by way of goodbye before she was heading out of the range.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday on Friday! Yes, Friday 13th. LOL. I'm getting old. So here's a birthday prezzie from me ;)

Bellamy had been roped into helping Octavia set up for her house warming. The place she had moved into was nice; it was an actual house, as opposed to an apartment, which Octavia had wanted to live in since she was a little girl. They had bounced between run down apartments when they were kids, and when he was younger, Bellamy had wanted to live in a house with a front yard and actual grass, and a bedroom that didn't double as the lounge. But then, even when he got back from his tour, he found himself back in an apartment building. It was a hell of a lot nicer than the one that he had been in when he was younger, but it was still an apartment.

"This is a really nice place you got here," Bellamy called from where he was in the spare room, flipping through one of the old photo books that had been at the top of one of her boxes that was yet to be unpacked. "Are you sure you can afford it?"

"Oh shut up, Bell," Octavia huffed as she came into the room. "I've got a degree in business, remember? I know how to budget and plan long term when it comes to money." She smirked and nudged her brother in the side. "And it'll be even easier when Lincoln moves in." Bellamy narrowed his eyes and looked back at the book, flipping to another page when he was about fifteen. "I'm an adult now, Bell," she murmured, stepping closer to her brother. "My boyfriend and I are eventually going to move in together."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that...Logically," Bellamy admitted grudgingly, giving her a rueful look. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Would you prefer that I was still a twelve year old?"

"No! Hell no," Bellamy laughed as he snapped the book shut and put it back in the box. "You were a nightmare back then. You were always getting into my shit and following me around." Octavia laughed and shook her head.

"That's not how I remember it," she told him.

"Oh yeah? That's probably because you were too high from the sugar from those lollies you always used to steal from that old lady next door—the one that you used to cat sit for?" Bellamy tried to remember her name.

"Marjory," Octavia said.

"Marjory! That was it," Bellamy laughed. "Anyway, when is everyone meant to be showing up to this thing? I'm ready to get that food all started." Octavia looked down at the watch on her wrist—an expensive looking one that Lincoln had gotten her for Christmas—and pursed her lips.

"Around half an hour," she said. "So we can probably start getting everything in the oven!"

* * *

It seemed as though once one person arrived, everyone came flowing in after that. Even though the place was a three bedrooms with a balcony, it was full. Bellamy shouldn't have been surprised, Octavia loved surrounding herself with people, and she was good at staying in touch, unlike him. But Bellamy's eyes kept swinging back toward the door, waiting for a certain blonde to walk through the front door.

"Bellamy!" Came a shout and he turned toward the sound of his name; the girl from the gun range. Raven. She grinned at him, dragging a tall blonde man behind her.

A tall blonde man with a vest and a Phantoms patch.

"Bellamy, this is my boyfriend, Wick," she introduced them. The blonde grinned and thrust his hand forward, and Bellamy shook it firmly.

"Wick?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's Kyle Wick," Wick said with a shrug. "But I prefer just Wick."

"Alright," Bellamy nodded. Conversation held easily; the man was relaxed and funny, and Raven seemed just as easy going. The snarky attitude she had at the gun range that day was definitely showing through with some of her comments, but Bellamy liked that. He had always had a thing for feisty girls. About twenty minutes later, Clarke arrived, being lead by Murphy. Bellamy couldn't help the twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach as he saw the two together, Murphy getting a drink out of the fridge for Clarke and twisting off the cap, handing it over to her.

They seemed to comfortable around each other—it was actually kind of hard to fathom.

Murphy didn't have girls who were _just_ friends.

There was only girl that would fall into that category and that would be Octavia, but Murphy had definitely tried to sleep with her at one stage, when they were back on leave for a long weekend from the front line. Bellamy had made it clear with his fist and his knee that Octavia was off limits.

And yet here he was, standing next to the prettiest girl in the room and laughing and touching her arm, and knowing that he was absolutely not going to get anything out of it at the end of the night.

And Bellamy was becoming more and more jealous as time went by.

"How much to drink do you think it would take to get ol' Finn to chill out?" Wick joked lightly, and Bellamy followed his gaze over to where the other man was looking. He was surprised when he saw the man from the club the first night he had met Clarke, the one he had thought was Clarke's boyfriend. With the way he was still looking at the blonde, he might've still thought that if it wasn't for the way that Clarke looked back at him.

Exactly the same way that she looked at Murphy.

"That girl has a few in the friend zone," Bellamy muttered and Wick let out a surprised laugh, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer.

"Given the way she was brought up, she makes friends with men better than with girls," Raven shrugged. "Her and Finn went out ages ago—like, when she was fifteen or something. They're just really good friends now. Like her and Murphy."

"I really don't think Murphy is a very comforting person to use when it comes to examples of 'just friends'," Bellamy muttered.

"Oh?" Raven arched an eyebrow at him, tilting her head toward him. "I didn't realize that you needed to be _com-for-ted_ ," she dragged out the word and Bellamy realized the mistake in his wording. He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, turning around partway to grab a slice of pizza from the table. When he looked back at the couple in front of him, they were exchanging grins, which he chose to ignore.

"Hey, guys!" Clarke came over to them, a beer in her hand and a spring roll in the other. "I think I could get used to Vee living just down the street, if she always puts out food like this."

"You live around here?" Bellamy's ears perked up at that.

"Yeah, just around the corner," Clarke told him, shifting her smile so that it was directly pointed toward at him. "Is this the first time you've seen her new place?"

"Yeah, she's been telling me about it but I've been really busy at work," Bellamy said.

"Bellamy!" Murphy appeared at Clarke's side, throwing an arm over her shoulder, looking completely oblivious to the way that Bellamy's face tightened. "So you guys are friends now, are ya?" He pointed between the blonde and his friend, a cheeky glint in his eye, and Bellamy realized that Murphy did in fact know that his friend was annoyed. He just liked doing it.

Which was typical Murphy.

"Haven't seen you in ages, Murph," Raven greeted him. "Where you been?"

"Well there's this girl," Murphy wiggled his eyebrows. Bellamy was taken aback. "What?!" Murphy asked indignantly. "I can't have a lady in my life?"

"It's just I'm not used to you having a lady in your life without you going on and on about them when we're in the garage," Bellamy arched an eyebrow. "In great detail."

"I don't know about the detail, but I know about Emori," Clarke piped up. "She's hot; I like her." Bellamy was surprised _again_.

"Emori?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's her name," Murphy got this weird look on his face, almost bashful. Bellamy was about to ask more about this mystery girl that he had heard nothing about when there was a scream from the other side of the room, followed by a round of laughter. The five of them looked across the room and saw Octavia jumping up and down, Lincoln standing next to her, one hand on her hip to stop her from stumbling over in her drunken state.

"Shit," Clarke laughed. "She got drunk quickly."

"I'm pretty sure she had started while we were cooking this afternoon," Bellamy said.

"Good for her," Raven grinned. Bellamy pursed his lips, not completely agreeing with the comment, but knowing that he would be out numbered if he said anything about it. Wick seemed to notice Bellamy's discomfort and he nudged him in the side.

"I've got a younger sister as well," he said with a knowing sigh. "I totally get it."

"But is your younger sister going out with one of your best friends?" Bellamy asked.

"I admit I don't quite have to stomach that," Wick admitted. People were beginning to crowd out onto the back balcony, where Lincoln and a few other guys had said up a table to play beer pong. Octavia had terrible aim at the best of times, so by the time beer pong happened, she was always a wreck. Clarke and Raven headed outside after the crowd while the three boys stayed inside, talking about a car that Wick was doing up with one of his 'brothers', who Bellamy assumed was another Phantoms member.

Wick wasn't bad, for a club member. He was funny and seemed light-hearted enough. The dark, broody exterior that Bellamy expected from club members was definitely delivered by Finn, who was standing in the corner of the room with another man with a vest, looking around the room with hooded eyes. Wick and Murphy seemed to know each other well; obviously meeting with Clarke in the time that Bellamy was away had expanded all of his friends circle of acquaintances. Bellamy really wasn't too sure how he felt about it, mainly just because it meant that his sister was friends with people who dabbled in illegal things daily, but it wasn't as though she was actually involved in those activities.

And Clarke and Raven seemed to truly care about her, so hopefully that meant that they didn't divulge too much about whatever club business they were a part of.

As the night went on, everyone was becoming drunker, unfortunately including his sister, who was becoming even more handsy with Lincoln. People started coming inside around twelve, because the weather outside had started to get colder. Which meant that Octavia and Lincoln were both inside, and Bellamy was practically getting a front row seat to the pair of them getting it on the couch.

"You're looking a little uncomfortable there," came a voice from behind him and Bellamy turned to see Clarke standing there, that smirk of hers pulling at the corners of her seductive rosebud mouth.

"Uh," Bellamy gave her a quick smile and a shrug. "I'm fine."

"You want to come back to my place?" She suddenly asked and Bellamy almost choked on the beer he had just pulled from the bottle. He looked sideways across the room, to his sister and his best friend, and then back at the blonde. "Come on," she wasn't waiting for an answer, putting down her bottle of beer and heading toward the door.

Bellamy would have been an idiot not to follow, and so he dropped his empty beer bottle into the recycling bin by the table, and picked up the pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go :)  
> Let me know what you guys think :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter!

The walk back to Clarke's place was only about three or four minutes, but it was enough time out in the cold, fresh air of the night for his mind to clear from the slight alcohol buzz that had settled over him. He never really got _drunk_ anymore, not for several years now, so it didn't take too long for him to sober up anyway. And he was glad, because he had no idea what it was that was going on between him and Clarke.

Was she inviting him back because she just felt bad for him, having to watch Octavia climb Lincoln like a tree?

Was she inviting him back for a nightcap and a movie?

Or was she inviting him back to...Well, to fuck?

He would have been an idiot and a liar if he said he wasn't interested in the last option, and if she propositioned him, he most definitely wouldn't turn her down, but for some reason, he really didn't think that that was what was going on right now. Clarke led the way up the pebbled path of her home and unlocked the front door, flicking on one of the hallway lights. Bellamy let his eyes adjust and then looked around.

It was a nice place.

And from what he can tell, it was quite big as well, especially for a girl who presumably lived alone. Clarke walked down the hallway, Bellamy moving a lot slower behind her, watching the way her calves flexed in the heels that she was wearing, and then further upwards, to the way that her ass swayed in the tiny denim shorts that she was wearing. She went through a doorway into the lounge and then kicked off her shoes. Bellamy was still looking at the walls in her hallway, lifting his eyebrows in appreciation at the art work that was hanging there.

"Did you paint these?" He asked as he touched a finger to the corner of one of the frames.

"I did," Clarke nodded, walking barefoot into the adjoining kitchen.

"They're good," he told her.

"Thanks," Clarke called from the kitchen. "Did you want another beer? Or a soda?"

"Uh, I'm fine," he replied as he walked into the lounge area.

"Or coffee? I'm going to do decaf," Clarke suggested.

"Actually, yeah," Bellamy agreed. "That'd be good." The room was colourful, very different from his own apartment which was filled with one shade of colour, grey, with the occasional splash of black. She had a TV, a massive TV, which was draped with colourful scarves and there were photos in pretty, brightly coloured frames on either side. There were pictures on the wall, and throw cushions thrown over the large L shaped sofa. He walked around to the front of the sofa and looked down at the picture that was framed on the coffee table.

Of her and her father.

"That was just a couple of weeks before he was killed," Clarke murmured, appearing by his elbow. Bellamy sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he gave her a sideways look. Clarke pursed her lips and then looked up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Um, you know something? I've never actually said thank you."

"Well, it's not something you need to thank me for," Bellamy mumbled, suddenly feeling _extremely_ uncomfortable.

"No, I know, it's just—" Clarke twisted her mouth. "I appreciated it. All of us did." She crossed her arms over her chest, letting her eyes fall back to the photo. "My dad was an amazing guy, and a lot of people just didn't get to find that out because people looked at him and only saw the patch."

"That's something that's kind of hard to miss. It's probably what he's most well known for," Bellamy pointed out, although he kept his voice soft, knowing that it was a touchy subject. "And I'm pretty sure it's something that he wanted to be recognized for."

"It was," Clarke nodded. "It's an important part of the life, but sometimes it's all people see. Not everyone is willing to help. All they see is the scary biker man and the scary biker life and while there's those whores that run toward it because they want to spread their legs for someone like that," Clarke snorted at that. "It's hard to attract the kind of people who want the right things. And...And I'm really glad that you did." Bellamy nodded, but didn't reply. There really wasn't much to say. Because while he _had_ helped, and he _did_ like Clarke and even Wick and Raven, he didn't agree with the life she lead. Maybe it was because he didn't understand it, but he had always tried to stay clear of it, despite his debt to Jake. Now probably wasn't a good time to say that to Clarke, though. So they were quiet until the sound of the coffee maker beeped indicated that it had finished brewing, and then she was heading back into the kitchen. "Do you take milk or sugar?"

"No, black," Bellamy called out.

"That's the same for all of you army boys, aye?" Clarke commented. "Murphy and Lincoln have theirs black as well." Bellamy shrugged as she came back into the room and handed him the cup. It was a standard black mug which was the opposite of her own mug, which was white with a picture of a golden crown printed on it and in big, bold writing announcing _Mother Fucking Queen_. Bellamy smirked as he took a sip of his coffee and then nodded at her.

"It's good," he said.

"Thanks," she rolled her eyes. "Because it's so hard to screw up coffee with no sugar and no milk." Bellamy shrugged but there was a small smile on his face. "Anyway," she walked over to the couch and sat down, patting the cushion next to her. "Sit down." He didn't really have any other option but to sit down, but he wasn't complaining. "So are you enjoying it back in the city? You were gone for, what, two years, right?"

"Yeah, just over two years," Bellamy nodded.

"And you moved because of an ex girlfriend, right? Or at least, that was part of the reason," she acknowledged that her father was a part of it without actually saying the words out loud, tilting her head to the side, her long blonde hair falling forward over her shoulder. Bellamy stared at her for a moment, wondering exactly where the conversation was going, but then he shrugged. He was feeling comfortable, surprisingly, and there was a pretty girl sitting opposite him who wasn't kicking him out anytime soon. So he decided to just go with it.

"Yeah, she was kind of..." he let out a short laugh. "She was kind of a nut job."

"As in super clingy or some shit?" Clarke asked.

"Something like that," Bellamy replied. "I mean, we were together for a while and so even though the relationship was kind of shit, it still hurt to break up. I got used to coming home to someone, you know?"

"Even though that someone was an overprotective bitch?" Clarke laughed, but it wasn't in a mean way, and Bellamy laughed with her. "No, I get what you mean." She scrunched up her nose. "Well, I think I do. I haven't actually been in a proper relationship. Or at least, not a healthy one."

"I don't think what I had with Echo could be classed as 'healthy'," Bellamy muttered.

"I guess not," Clarke grinned. "Probably the closest to a serious relationship I ever had was with this girl, Lexa." Bellamy's chin jutted forward in surprise and Clarke arched an eyebrow at him. "What? You thought I was a straight arrow?" Bellamy swallowed hard, hoping that the disappointment on his face wasn't showing but clearly it was, because she just started laughing again. It was this adorable laugh, that made her nose wrinkle and her bright blue eyes sparkle and dance.

It was kind of painful how adorable her laugh was.

"Don't worry, pal," she reached over at patted his knee teasingly, a seductive glint in her eyes. "I go both ways. I don't really care what you got going on in your pants, if I like you; then I like you," she shrugged as though it was that simple.

And he guessed it was.

He liked that.

"So what happened with this...Lexa?" Bellamy asked, almost choking over the name. Clarke's eyebrow was still raised, as if she knew exactly what was running through his head. Which may or may not be Clarke and this faceless girl tangled together. He blinked, trying to rid the thoughts from his mind because thinking about the gorgeous girl in front of him making out naked with some other gorgeous girl was going to make him uncomfortable quite quickly.

"She's a teacher," Clarke said. "A primary school teacher." She took another sip from her coffee cup. "Which I would never have placed her as, because she's got this personality that's, I don't know, that's kind of spicy."

"Well, I couldn't imagine you with someone bland," Bellamy remarked and Clarke laughed.

"I guess that's a compliment, right?" She grinned and he nodded, grinning back at her. "Yeah, well, I thought it was serious. And then I found out that she was seeing someone else. Actually, she was _living_ with someone else. Some perfect, pretty girl named Costia who works at a respectable office job and they have a Labrador puppy together and are actually planning on getting married." The smile was gone from her face now and her fingers tightened around her coffee mug. Underneath the multiple rings that she was wearing, her fingers were bloodless. "Apparently I was the fun before she tied the knot. They might be married now, for all I know." Bellamy licked his tongue along his lower lip.

"What do you mean you never had a serious relationship before?" He murmured. "That sounded pretty serious to me."

"Well, given how easily she dumped me when she was done, it couldn't have been as serious as I thought it was," Clarke gave a one shouldered shrug. Bellamy took another drink from his cup and let out a forced laugh.

"So maybe talking about Lexa isn't the best thing to do after a few drinks at this time of night?" He suggested. "Tell me about Finn—he watches you as though he's your own personal guard dog." Clarke laughed at his example and her expression relaxed, shuffling down further in the couch and tucking her legs up underneath her. She looked very comfortable, and that made Bellamy comfortable in turn.

"We went out— _ages_ ago, before it could really be counted as going out with someone," Clarke smiled. "But he's one of my best friends. And he's sort of always been my protector, ya know. Since dad's been gone." The smile faded from her face again and Bellamy searched for something to say that would turn their conversation toward something more light hearted.

"So you paint, right? Does that mean you do all the designing for the tattoo's you do?"

"Most of them, yeah," Clarke looked relieved at the change of topic.

"That's incredible," Bellamy said truthfully.

"It's pretty awesome. Did you know I actually wanted to be a nurse when I got older?" She raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned back at her. "I know, right? It's a complete turn around; nurse for tattoo artist. I got partway through my degree when things with dad happened, and I just didn't want to do it. My mother is a doctor, and I thought that being a nurse was what I wanted to do. Dad always said that he knew that a hospital isn't where I wanted to spend all day every day, but I didn't listen. When he died, I guess I finally admitted that he was right."

"And so you opened the parlour?"

"Yup," Clarke nodded. "And I absolutely fucking love it!"

"You're lucky, to do what you love for a living," Bellamy commented. "And Raven seem's to enjoy her job as well."

"Oh, God," Clarke laughed. "Raven's a scary chick. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love her. But when Kane first started talking about her taking over the gun range, we were all a bit worried. Because sometimes she has the tendency to fly off the handle over little things—in high school once, there was this guy who kept hitting on her. Just tiny things, saying shit to her or leaving notes in her locker. He didn't get the hint, and things got bigger, like he started touching her arms or grabbing her ass." Clarke winced out a smile. "She snapped his wrist."

"Poor dude," Bellamy laughed. "Bet he got the picture after that though, right?"

"Sure did," Clarke agreed with another grin. Bellamy laughed and shook his head, finishing off his coffee. He was surprised by how easy it felt between them, and even though he could see the clock on the wall behind her edging on two o'clock, he didn't want to stop talking.

"That first night in the bar, it was pretty obvious that you could take care of yourself as well. You know, when that fight broke out?" He reminded her and Clarke shrugged.

"As if a Phantoms woman couldn't handle a drunk guy," she said with a slight twinge of pride in her voice. "We were born to look out for ourselves." Bellamy liked the sound of that. "So, tell me about Jasper and Monty. I haven't really talked to them all that much—I think that they're scared of Murphy."

"That is completely accurate," Bellamy grinned, before launching into a tale of when Jasper and Monty had tried to build a lightsaber, and it had malfunctioned terribly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, let me know what you think :)


	7. Chapter 7

Bellamy woke with a start and then blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings and weight on his chest. It was pitch black, save a blue light that was flickering from underneath the TV. He lifted his hand to rub it over his eyes and looked down, blinking in surprise as he saw a blonde head resting on his chest, a few of the stands of hair tickling at his throat. Everything came flooding back; Octavia's house warming, going back to Clarke's house, talking with her on the couch. Clearly they had fallen asleep, or maybe he had had just fallen asleep, because the lights were all turned off and there was a blanket over their lower half.

That made him smile.

She had chosen to fall asleep next to him, tucking herself between the back of the couch and his body, her head on his chest and her arm thrown over his waist. Both of them were still fully dressed, but it was still a little bit cold. So Bellamy reached down, and pulled the blanket up so it was draped around Clarke's shoulders, and then went back to sleep.

* * *

When Bellamy woke up in the morning, he felt properly rested, which wasn't often the way he felt in the morning. He blinked blearily...And then let out a yelp and almost fell off the couch as he saw someone standing over them. It was a shock that he hadn't woken as soon as someone had entered the room with them, usually he was a lot more aware of his surroundings than that.

"Oh, shit!" He gasped out, his body jolting and jerking the blonde resting against him awake.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Clarke grumbled out, rubbing her eyes and then blinking when she looked up at the person standing next to the couch. "Mum?"

"Mum?!" Bellamy felt his cheeks flush and he tried to get up, feeling panicked, but Clarke didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry. She stretched, arching her back so that her breasts pushed harder against his chest, the softness of her body really not helping with his morning arousal, which he was glad was hidden by the blanket that was still resting over them.

"You two planning on sleeping the day away, or you actually going to get up at some point?" Abby asked with an arch of her eyebrow.

"What are you doing here, mum?" Clarke asked, finally sitting up and draping her legs over the side of the couch. Bellamy shifted his position so that he was sitting up as well, and rearranged the blanket pointedly over his lap, hoping that neither woman saw what he had done.

"Well you were meant to bring my oven dishes back over? Because it's Sunday?" Abby told Clarke, still looking between them in amusement. Clarke didn't seem embarrassed at all about being caught sleeping with some man. Sure, they were adults, in their twenties, but Bellamy was pretty sure that he would never be okay with his mother walking in on him, if she was still alive.

"Oh, shit!" Clarke winced. "Sunday lunch. Right. Uh," she ran her fingers through the tangled mess that sleep had created with her hair. "I'll go get them." She stood up and walked toward the kitchen, leaving her mother and Bellamy behind. Bellamy looked down at the ground and then back up at Abby, giving her a sheepish smile. She was grinning down at him, her arms crossed over her chest, not looking bothered. "Here we go," Clarke came back into the room and handed over two porcelain oven dishes.

"And are you going to get dressed before you come over, or are you going to bless us with your presence dressed like that?" Abby looked her up and down. The way her eyebrow was arched was so similar to expressions that Bellamy had seen Clarke make in the short time that he had known her, and even if he hadn't been told, he would know they were related.

"I'll drive over soon," Clarke told her.

"And you're bringing your friend?" Abby looked back at Bellamy.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," Bellamy began to stutter.

"Yup, he'll be there," Clarke spoke over him and Abby nodded.

"Excellent," she smiled at the pair of them. "I'll see you soon." Abby turned around and was gone with a few seconds, and Bellamy turned his eyes up toward Clarke, wide eyed and looking a little panicked. Clarke looked down at him and grinned.

"Come on!" She clapped her hands together. "We need to get moving so we have time to stop by your place and grab some clothes."

"Wait, I don't need—I mean, I'm not—I, uh," Bellamy stuttered and Clarke just raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her rosebud lips. "Lunch. With your family. Okay," he nodded, letting out a sigh as he realized that there was no way out of it. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

He really wasn't sure what he was expecting when he walked into the house of the Phantoms president. Maybe he was partly expecting half naked posters of girls on the walls and lots of leather—a ridiculous amount of leather. When he had delivered Jake's killer, it had been to the Phantoms club house, and that was definitely made up with the naked girls on the walls and leather and framed mug shots and even a deer head mounted above a pool table. But the house seemed perfectly normal, like every other house. And a very nice house at that.

"Oh, you made it!" Abby cried out as they walked through the front door, which brought them directly into the lounge where there was a gathering of Phantoms brothers. Raven was sitting on the couch, her legs slung over those of Wick, who was sitting next to her, a mug of coffee in his hand. On the arm chair was Finn, and standing behind him was a younger boy that Bellamy didn't recognize, although from a quick glance at his vest, he could see the word 'prospect' stitched underneath the patch that declared he was a Phantoms member. And then standing in the archway between the lounge and what looked like the dining room was the President.

Kane.

"Yeah, well, I had to take Bellamy back to his place to get dressed," Clarke said as she kicked off her ballet flats by the door and walked into the middle of the lounge, not waiting for Bellamy to take off his own shoes. He felt a little bit like a deer in the headlights, and was relieved when Raven shifted her legs and patted the couch next to her.

"You already know Finn and Wick, and this is Wells," she nodded behind him to someone who he hadn't noticed, Wells Jaha. "And this is Drew." This time she nodded at the prospect standing behind Finn, Drew Meaden. Bellamy nodded at them all in turn, before conversation continued as it had before they had walked in. Bellamy didn't have much to add to the conversation, which was currently revolving around the latest Marvel movie, and he was happy to just sit back and listen. Once again, he was surprised by how 'normal' it all felt, although he had already noted that each of the men in the room had guns on their person, and he had a feeling Wick actually had two, one that he could see strapped to his ankle underneath his jeans, and then one at his lower back. But everything was relaxed, and Abby was clearly the mother figure to all of them, scolding Finn for putting his feet up on the coffee table and reorganizing Drew's hair, which was a complete mess in front of his eyes.

"Lunch is ready!" Clarke called and it was a mad scramble from the lounge to the dining room, and Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise, quickly following after them. Kane sat at the front of the table, not saying much, not giving much away with his expression, but then he had always struck Bellamy as a man of few words, which he could appreciate. There was enough food to feed an army, but Bellamy noticed that it was disappearing quickly before his eyes and he had better fill up his plate if he didn't want to miss out.

"So where did you guys head off to last night?" Raven suddenly asked through a mouthful of bread roll and earning herself a narrow eyed look from Abby. "Did you have fun?" She wiggled her eyebrows at Bellamy and Clarke and Bellamy almost choked on the piece of chicken he was eating. Clarke glanced across at him and smirked and then looked back over at Raven and pulled the fingers at her.

"Leave the man alone, Raven," Wick told his girlfriend with a snort, shoving her in the side with his elbow. Bellamy's cheeks were red with embarrassment for the second time and he chanced a look toward Kane, who apparently didn't look too bothered by the insinuation that Raven was making and just continued eating his lunch. Lunch just seemed to get louder and louder, and even Finn was vocal as two or three different conversations started at once with each person raising their voice to be heard over everyone else. Despite an argument breaking out between Wick and Wells, it was all in good nature, and it was clear that all of these people cared about each other and were comfortable.

They were like a family.

He knew that was what the MC's were about—a brotherhood. And he already knew for a fact that were loyal to a fault, and would die—and kill—for each other. But he had never been around them when they were like this; eating, laughing, teasing, just being with each other. Even Kane was grinning, Clarke talking to him over the head of Raven, who was on her other side, and even though his eyes were always moving, as though waiting for something to happen, he looked at ease.

After lunch, the girls cleared the table and headed into the kitchen, and Bellamy excused himself to find the toilet. He could hear yelling and laughing coming from the kitchen; it sounded as though Raven was threatening to start a water fight with the dirty dishwater, and he grinned as he washed his hands after using the toilet. He came out of the bathroom and then stopped short when he saw Kane standing in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest.

"Uh, bathrooms free, man. If you want it," Bellamy said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What's going on with you and Clarke?" Kane asked bluntly. Bellamy blinked, pursing his lips and contemplating his response.

"We barely know each other," he answered honestly.

"You may have only just met each other, but you know a hell of a lot more about each other than normal," Kane replied. "Your history is a lot more complicated than normal."

"I don't know what's going on with me and Clarke," Bellamy said firmly. "I like her, but there's nothing—there's nothing happening between us." He paused and tilted his head to the side before continuing, "At least there isn't at the moment."

"So you want there to be something between you and my step-daughter?" Kane pressed, pushing himself off the wall that he was leaning against and straightening himself to his full height. It was an intimidation technique, the way he was broadening his shoulders and craning his neck so that he was looking down on Bellamy, even though the younger man was only slightly shorter.

And it was working.

"I'm, uh, not too sure how to answer that," Bellamy took in a conspicuous breath through his nose and gave Kane a half smile that he hoped looked authentic. "Guess we'll see how it goes."

"Right, well," Kane narrowed his eyes. "If something happens between you two, you need to know—"

"Yeah, yeah, you'll hurt me grievously if I do something that hurts her," Bellamy interjected. "She was the last Presidents daughter, and she's the new Presidents step-daughter. She's the Phantoms princess, I get it." Kane eyed him for a moment before letting out a short laugh and shaking his head.

"Well, the last bit was completely accurate," he said with a grin that unnerved Bellamy a little. "But the first part? No, buddy," he clapped his hand down on Bellamy's shoulder as he moved to start walking away. "Clarke is the strongest girl I know. And also one of the scariest. She'll be the one who hurts you grievously if you do something to hurt her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)  
> Comments make my day .


	8. Chapter 8

After Bellamy's run in with Kane in the hallway, the rest of the afternoon had been uneventful and surprisingly pleasant. Rather than going back out to the lounge, they all went out onto the back balcony which overlooked the lawn. Abby had a bit of a green thumb, and she clearly loved working out in the garden because the flowers and trees were all well kept and blooming. Another brother of the _Phantoms_ came over, Dax Zinck, showed up just after lunch. He was quieter, and had a mean look on his face, and Bellamy thought pointedly to himself that he would make sure he was never left alone to make conversation with that guy. Clarke, Wick, Dax and Finn all lit up cigarettes and sat down wind, the three boys poking fun at Clarke for some photo that had apparently come to light a few weeks ago of when she was younger. Abby was relaxed, leaning back in the lawn chair with a smile on her face as she looked around at the people surrounding her, appearing content to just listen to the chatter. Kane was the same, although he spent quite a bit of time on his phone. And Wells, Drew and Raven were all talking easily with Bellamy, conversation light and sarcastic.

He hadn't expected to enjoy his time with them so much.

The way that Clarke would look over at him every couple of minutes and catch his eyes and give him a soft smile that made his stomach twist in a weird but nice way.

When she drove him home a little after three, he thought that he might get lucky with a goodbye kiss. She was loose and relaxed, her hair down and blowing back from the window being wound all the way down, and she was singing along to an old Backstreet Boys song that was on the radio. When they had pulled up outside his apartment, she had said that if she was polite company, she would probably apologize for dragging him along at last minute notice to a family lunch. But she _wasn't_ polite company, so she wouldn't apologize. Bellamy had just laughed and shook his head, saying that she was glad that he had, and it was probably the best that he had eaten in a while because he didn't cook much at home, wasn't as fun when it was just for himself. They had talked for a little longer, about completely trivial things before she said that she needed to get home and start working on a few designs for some tattoo's she would be doing next week. Bellamy had hesitated for long enough that if she was going to hint for a kiss she had time, but she had just raised an eyebrow at him and nodded pointedly at the door.

And now here he was, stuck in his garage with his closest friends whom he had literally fought wars alongside and who were now acting like a bunch of twelve year olds.

"He totally cut your lunch!" Jasper crowed. "We all know that you would hit that if she hadn't completely friend-zoned you!"

"Hey, I can take that like a man, because I have the ability to actually find someone to spend my life with other than my nerdy best friend," Murphy smirked. "But I must say; you do move fast, man," he wiggled his eyebrows pointedly at Bellamy. "She doesn't usually take to people so quickly."

"Or maybe she just didn't take to _you_ that quickly," Bellamy muttered as he came out from under the car he was working on and swapped out the tools that he was using, then disappeared back under. The boys had been relentless with their teasing, starting from the minute that he had walked in the door and not looking as though they were going to be letting up anytime soon. The only one who held their tongue was Lincoln, although he was clearly enjoying the teasing that was going on, a grin on his face as he worked on a blue BMW.

"As your best friend, I feel as though I'm entitled to know exactly what went down when you left Vee's," Murphy piped up.

"What makes you think that you're his best friend?!" Jasper cried. "You're all moody and violent and full of shit and arrogant and—ow!" Clearly Murphy's violent side had shown, because Jasper fell quiet with a grumble.

"As I was saying," Murphy continued, before suddenly the mechanic creeper that Bellamy was lying on was being pulled out from underneath the car and he was looking up at a grinning Murphy. Bellamy glared up at him from where he was laying on the roller bed, wrench in his hand and poised over his chest as though he was going to throw it at the standing man. "I feel as though I'm entitled to know exactly what went down when you left Vee's."

"I'm sure you feel as though you're entitled to a lot of things," Bellamy grunted. "That doesn't mean you actually _are_."

"Spoilsport," Murphy frowned. Bellamy just shrugged and slid back under the car. "Well, Clarke and me have a pretty open relationship. She usually tells me all about her fun times," his voice was taunting and Bellamy knew that he was just saying it to rile him up, but that didn't stop him from narrowing his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was the idea of Clarke talking to Murphy about him or the idea of Clarke having 'fun times'.

Which was stupid, because he had literally seen her about three times now.

Three fucking times.

And he was already pissed off about the idea of her with someone else.

Around two o'clock things seemed to settle down, which was helped when Bellamy remembered the other night that he had found out Murphy had been seeing someone on the down low. Jasper and Monty were just as surprised as Bellamy had been when he told them, although he had a feeling that Lincoln knew or at least suspected, and so the first thing the boys were doing was searching her on Facebook and stalking her all the way back to 2009.

"She's hot!" Monty decreed.

"Way too hot for you," Jasper agreed.

"Piss off," Murphy glared at them, throwing an oily rag in their direction before walking over to the sink in the corner of the garage. He washed his hands and then pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. A smug smile appeared on his face and he turned the phone around so that it was facing the rest of the boys. "Well why don't you look at that? Turns out that she clearly doesn't think that she's too hot for me. Turns out I've got a hot date for tonight."

"With your hand?" Jasper snorted.

"With your blow up doll?" Monty chortled and the two boys clapped high five before ducking as Murphy sent a handful of screws flying in their direction.

"Hey!" Bellamy snapped, giving him a warning look as some of the screws got close to one of the cars they were working on. "It's going to come out of your payslip if we need to touch up the paint job on one of these cars." Murphy glared for a few minutes longer but then relented, clearly the texts that had come from his girlfriend surpassing his annoyance brought on by his younger co-workers.

"All goods if I bounce?" Murphy fixed his boss with a hopeful grin. Bellamy's eyebrows pulled together, but then he rolled his eyes and shrugged, and Murphy let out a whoop, and was grabbing his keys from the hook above the sink and out the door before Bellamy had a chance to change his mind. Bellamy looked over at Lincoln, who shrugged with a grin and then went back to working on the engine of the car in front of him. Bellamy grumbled under his breath but looked up at the clock on the wall. It was a little after five, and they were nowhere near as busy as they were last week, so they could probably all start heading home.

"Aight, boys, you want to call it a night?" Bellamy asked, and received a resounding 'yes' from his friends. Monty was out in a blink of an eye, Lincoln close behind, shouting his goodbyes over his shoulder. Just as Jasper was about to follow out after, Bellamy nervously bit down on his lower lip before he decided to step forward. There had been something that had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since Kane had brought it up the other day. "Uh, Jasper?"

"Yeah, Mr Boss Man?" Jasper turned back to him with his goofy smile on his face.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," Bellamy hesitated for a moment, feeling a little nervous before breathing out heavily through his nose. "I wanted to know if you couldrunabackgroundcheck." His words all ran together but Jasper seemed to be able to decipher them and he got that dangerous gleam in his eye and he rubbed his hands together.

"Ooh, I like where this is going," he smirked. "Let's go use the computer in the office." Jasper lead the way into the office, Bellamy shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the doorframe as Jasper entered the password into the laptop and waited for it to load up. "So why are we running this?"

"I just...Someone that I think I might—that I might start seeing? I don't know," Bellamy flushed slightly, and Jasper spun around in his seat to look back at his boss, eyebrows raised.

"It's _Clarke_ you want me to run a background check on?" He asked in surprise, suddenly looking a little nervous.

"How'd you know—" Bellamy cut off at the pointed look on Jasper's face and he sighed. "Yeah, it's Clarke," he confirmed in resignation. Jasper thought for a moment, and then shrugged, looking back at the computer. He opened up an internet browser, but then his fingers were moving so quickly, skipping between so many different screens, that Bellamy lost track of what he was doing. When the younger man finally stopped, he was in a system that looked a lot like what Bellamy imagined the police systems would look like and he wondered if he should never have asked Jasper to do this. "Have you ever been arrested for hacking?" He asked curiously.

"Nope," Jasper flashed a grin over his shoulder. "I'm too good for that." Bellamy really hoped the kid wasn't overestimating his skill but he didn't say anything more until a mug shot filled the screen and both boys took a moment to study the photo of a much younger and much angrier looking Clarke. Her blonde hair had black streaks through it and half of it was twisted back in braids on one side, dark eye make up caked around her eyes and a surly look on her face.

"Shit," Bellamy made a face. "That's intense." Clarke always seemed to wear make up, but this was definitely a different kind of make up. She looked furious at the world, and kind of wild.

"This was...Six years ago," Jasper leaned forward and squinted at the tiny white print. "So she would have been eighteen. Arrested five times, although all of them were just overnight or weekend stays, nothing serious. A couple of drunk and disorderlies, getting into bar fights, etcetera etcetera ." Jasper was still staring at the screen and then let out a little hiss through his teeth, his fingers flying across the keys again. "Ooh!"

"What?" Bellamy asked, leaning forward to try and see what Jasper was looking at.

"She had a sealed juvie record," Jasper replied. "Possession of coke and weed, carrying an unlicensed weapon without a permit—she seemed to get less crazy as she got older."

"That sounds like a good thing," Bellamy said with a relieved half grin, but he had to admit, he liked that she was a badass. He definitely appreciated that she seemed a lot more settled now, but she still had an edge to her. "What are all these dates?" He pointed to the side and Jasper followed his finger.

"That's when all of these arrests and misdemeanours took place," Jasper answered. "It looks like there hasn't been anything for about...Almost two and a half years." Around the time that her father died, Bellamy noted in his head. "Was there anything else that you wanted to have a look at?"

"Nah, uh, that's all. Thanks," Bellamy gave Jasper a smile. "I'm gonna head off now. Lock up when you leave, yeah?"

"Sweet as, boss," Jasper grinned and turned back to the computer. Bellamy got his keys from the hook above the sink and headed out to his car. Rather than going home, he went to the gym, and spent almost two hours there, lost in the mess of thoughts in his head. Afterwards, it took him almost half an hour to get home in rush hour traffic, and all he wanted to do was get in the shower, and then settle down in front of the TV with a cold beer in his hand. But the second he unlocked his front door, he felt as though something was off. He frowned, and flicked on the lights and looked around the room, quickly finding the cause off the feeling in the room.

Clarke.

"So," she began with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over her chest. "I hear you've been looking into me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for everyones comments and kudos :)  
> Keep it up !


	9. Chapter 9

Bellamy stared across at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Her lips were pressed together in a flat line and her arms were folded over her chest, but she didn't look furious. Well, she looked a _little_ furious, but not completely. Her expression was more just blank as she took a step forward, an eyebrow raised pointedly. That seemed to be her thing.

That eyebrow.

Her eyes and her mouth gave nothing away, but the way she arched that eyebrow, it added all the sass and expression she needed.

He was kind of falling in love with it.

"Jasper?" He managed to ask, licking his tongue along with dry lips, hoping his voice didn't betray how nervous he was really feeling.

"I'm sure he would have told me eventually," Clarke said evenly. "That boy couldn't keep a secret to save his life."

"But it wasn't him?" Bellamy shut his front door and locked it, dropping his wallet and keys on the side table. He took a few steps closer to her, pursing his lips. "Who was it then?"

"We have someone inside the police station," Clarke replied. "Did you really think that we wouldn't?" That shouldn't have surprised him at all, actually, but that still made him wonder how they could tell that someone had remotely accessed files. Then again, he knew nothing about how computers and hacking worked, he was more of a hands on kind of guy. That was why he had needed Jasper's help in the first place. "I'm assuming you looked at my more recent files, which I wouldn't have a clue about and neither would our inside man, because those aren't sealed. And you probably would have gotten away with that, except juvie records are sealed."

Bellamy should have known that.

That was public knowledge.

"Anyone who accesses juvie records is opening up sealed files and is going to get flagged. Our inside man isn't a techie or anything, but he keeps an eye on all of our records, and even though he couldn't trace the IP address, when he said that someone had accessed my records, I sort of thought that it might have something to do with you," Clarke replied, sounding sure of herself.

"You don't think it's got something to do with the problems inside your club?" Bellamy questioned, although he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this one.

"Because if there was an enemy trying to worm their way into the club, first of all; they wouldn't be looking at me. I'm the daughter of the President, yeah, but there are more high profile targets. And second; they wouldn't be looking at what I was doing when I was fucking seventeen," Clarke snapped, sounding a little more frustrated, probably because he wasn't being straight with her. Which he understood and he swallowed hard. He had to admit he felt a little intimidated by her. He then had to admit to himself that he kind of liked it. "And then I had to think about who was new in my life who had access to getting into my files?" She nodded over at him. "And you're it. Maybe you're not good with computers, but like you said...Jasper."

"Right," Bellamy let out a huff through his nose. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was me." Clarke looked a little surprised that he had admitted it so openly and her eyes widened.

"Why?" She asked. She didn't sound annoyed or pissed off anymore, just curious. "I mean, I'm kind of an open book. If you've got a question, just ask me to my face." Bellamy sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face, considering his answer before opening his mouth. When he was younger, he got himself into trouble quite often because he spoke before thinking, but he had definitely learnt how to monitor his words during his time in the army. He walked past her and into the kitchen, grabbing that beer that he wanted out of the fridge and snapping the cap off, tossing it toward the recycling bin before turning back to face her.

"I like you, okay?" He began, heaving in a breath at putting that statement out there so bluntly. While he had run his mouth quite a bit, it usually hadn't been about serious things like this. Or what this felt like. "I like you. But the thing is..." he drummed his fingers against his beer bottle. "I mean, you're in there deep with an MC. I just...I'm just not sure about that." Clarke's blue eyes darkened and she frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked him carefully.

"You know what it means, Clarke," he tried to give her a half smile to ease his words but she was looking rapidly more and more annoyed.

"I thought the other night you said that you were all good with that?" She questioned. Bellamy winced and took a quick pull of his beer.

"No, I didn't say that," he said quietly. "You said that, and I...I just didn't disagree." Clarke's squared her jaw and her pretty, soft lips were rubbing together and pursing and while all he wanted to do was reach out and touch them with the pad of his thumb, he had a feeling she would probably punch him in the nose if he did it right now. That, or bite his finger off. "I told you that I did brought in the killer for Jake—for your dad. He was a good man, and I owed him." Clarke's face darkened and she took in a deep breath, her chest lifting as she walked over to the windows, looking outside into the quickly darkening night. Bellamy took another drink of his beer and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just, the things that they can do...Dealing weapons, the drugs, thugs for hire—I know that's not what it's all about, but that's still a really big part! Look, Clarke, I'm sorry. It's just—"

"They're my family, Bellamy," she said sharply, still turning to face him. "And they're amazing people. Yeah, a little rough around the edges, and yeah—some of the shit they do isn't exactly legal, but there is nothing but love and loyalty between them." She turned back to face him and he could see that she had calmed herself down a little, but there was still a stony look on her face. "They're a brotherhood—you should understand that bond better than most people." Bellamy's eyebrows pulled together and his lips twitched.

"What's that supposed to mean, Clarke?" He knew his voice had hardened and he could tell that Clarke heard the edge because her whole body tensed up again, her shoulders squaring.

"A lot of people who come back from the army and navy join MC's because it's another brotherhood for them, for them to be a part of," she began. "They feel lost when they return from their war, as though they don't have a purpose or people who understand them, and joining MC's gives them—"

"Don't you talk about that!" Bellamy interrupted, his whole body bristling all over. "Don't you talk about things that you don't understand, like the army, and the affect it has on the men who come back." His words were clipped and Clarke knew that she was pushing a line with him. She opened her mouth as though she was going to say something but then she shook her head and sighed. She stalked past him, the high heeled boots she was wearing clicking away on the lino of his apartment. Bellamy felt his rush of anger quickly fizzle out and he sighed, taking a few steps quickly after her and grabbing her arm. "Look, Clarke, I'm sorry," he let out a breath through his nose. "I didn't mean to snap at you." Clarke pursed her lips as she looked him up and down, and then shrugged one shoulder.

"It's okay," she said to him, although she pointedly pulled her arm away from him and put some space between them.

"No, it's not," Bellamy murmured. "I'm sorry." Clarke nodded at him and shifted from foot to foot. It was only now that he could get a proper look at her and he really wished that he was seeing her under better circumstances. She was wearing skinny jeans that showed off her long legs and curvy ass and tucked into a pair of high heeled boots, and a singlet that clung to her cleavage and then flowed out loosely. Her hair was a little curled, hanging around her shoulders, and she had dark eye make up that made her blue eyes glow.

"Look, I should go—" Clarke took another step for the door and Bellamy's brain scrambled for something to say, to try and make things right before she walked out.

"Me and you, we lead completely different lives, and we have different histories," he said. "We don't understand what each other have been through, and we shouldn't presume to know." Clarke didn't look as though she agreed with him, but she didn't interrupt, staring at him and waiting for him to finish talking. "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat when you started talking about military men coming back, and I'm sorry."

"Honestly, Bell? It's fine," Clarke told him, and to her credit, she didn't sound angry at all. And he liked the way she called him by his nickname, that pretty much only Octavia called him by. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, uh—we're good, right?" He asked. Clarke gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, we're good," she told him. "But don't go snooping into my files again, okay? If you want to know something, just ask me. Not to mention the fact it's illegal, and if someone else found out that Jasper was looking into it and they track the IP address and he'll get arrested for hacking. I'm pretty sure you don't want that." Bellamy jerked his chin forward in agreement. Clarke made to step past him and then paused, brushing her fingers over the knuckles of his hand that was hanging by his side. "I know that you think we're completely different. And in lots of ways, I'm sure we are. But we're not total opposites." She gave him that pretty half smile that made her look like an absolute sweetheart and completely irresistible all at the same time. "In lots of ways, I think we're actually pretty similar." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, her fingers tightening around his hand for a split second before she opened the front door, and was then gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment , let me know what you think :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while.  
> To make it up to you, I'm uploading three chapters.  
> Here we go...

Clarke was pretty sure that the other night could have gone better, but in all honesty, she had never been the best with words. She had definitely improved over the years, she had forced herself to after her father had passed away, but there might have been a few better things that she could have said differently. As soon as she had mentioned the army men coming back and joining an MC, she could have kicked herself. It sounded as though she was trying to rationalize and play off that she knew how he was feeling, and that was the last thing she had wanted him to think she was doing.

When she had a call from, she had been pissed. She had felt a little clueless at first as to who it could be who was trying to access her juvenile records when Sinclair Juliani had called her. And then after a second, she had realized that there was really only one person that it could be. She had been confused, but not as angry.

After she left, her stomach had been turning, and she got behind the wheel of her car with a frown creasing her pretty face. The way she felt about Bellamy was weird. She was used to guys finding her attractive, and most of the time, she was completely okay with that. It was a good confidence boost and made getting her way a little easier. She was able to handle herself as well, her father and all of his brothers in the _Phantoms_ had taught her that from an early age, and so she had no problem with putting them in their place if they thought they could get a little too friendly without her permission.

And she could tell that Bellamy found her attractive, but he wasn't being a creep about it. But while he wasn't blatantly checking her out at every couple of minutes, she could still tell that he was interested in her. She had thought that something could possibly come of whatever it was between them, even if they had a weirdly complicated history, but then after finding out that his feelings toward the club weren't as cut and dry as she thought, maybe it had just been wishful thinking.

It was a Thursday, and work was pretty slow, so she had closed up after her last appointment had finished just after four and text her mother, telling Abby that she was coming over for dinner. There wasn't any reply by the time she was pulling down the road for Abby and Kane's house, but that wasn't uncommon. Abby lost her phone on an hourly basis, but she would usually be home around five or six to make sure dinner was ready and on the time for Kane and whoever else was coming over for dinner. Clarke was a bit surprised when she parked up outside the house and saw a couple of bikes there, ones that weren't Kane's, because it was only just going on four-thirty, and usually if the boys were all meeting up, they would do it at the club house, not at Abby's home. And she was even _more_ confused when she saw them with scratches and chunks of paint missing.

These men treated their bikes like their babies, spending more money and time on them than what most people would spend on their own homes. There had to be something wrong if their bikes were sitting out here, all banged up and sad looking.

Clarke frowned as she locked her car and headed into the house.

"Mum? You here?" She called out as she kicked off her shoes and walked into the lounge. "Mum— _fuck_! What the fuck?!"

"Ssh!" Abby hissed as she crossed the lounge and grasped her daughters hand, pulling her through the lounge. Clarke's eyes were wide as she looked at the men on either side of the lounge before she was in the kitchen. "They're on some pretty heavy painkillers, but they've been out for a while, so they'll be starting to wear off, and I don't want them to wake up just yet."

"What happened?" Clarke asked worriedly, ducking her head back around the corner to look back into the adjoining room. It was Finn and Wells, both of them looking beaten up, blood staining their clothes and scratches and scrapes all over their arms and red marks that were clearly going to be ugly bruises tomorrow. "Is—is Kane okay? Where is he?" Abby took in a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her face.

"He's fine, Clarke. Him and Theo brought the boys over here and then took off to the clubhouse for church," Abby said, keeping her voice hushed.

"What happened?" Clarke repeated, her voice more demanding this time.

"There was an attack, early this morning at one of their buys," Abby told her. "Clearly something didn't go as planned, because on their way back with the money, someone jumped them. Slammed into their bikes and sent them swerving off the road. Beat them up and took their money and their guns—"

"Do they know who it is?"

"That's what Kane and Theo are looking into," Abby sighed. "But...It's got to be another MC, right? I mean, no one else is fucking _stupid_ enough to try and go up against them."

"But then if it was another MC..." Clarke frowned, her hand going to her hair, her fingers weaving through a few strands of hair and beginning to twirl it around, a nervous habit that she had picked up years ago. "If it was another MC, then that's declaring war. Surely..." Abby looked as worried as Clarke felt. "Surely that's not the case."

"I honestly don't know, baby," Abby whispered. There was some noise from the lounge and Clarke looked back around the corner. Wells was still passed out on the couch, not looking at all comfortable but clearly still knocked out from the painkillers. But Finn was twisting slightly and letting out a groan. "I'm going to give Kane a call, can you do see to him? He probably just wants some water or something, but no more painkillers. They were some strong shit and they can't have anymore at least another few hours."

"Yeah, yeah, I got this mum," Clarke gave her mother a nod and a small, hopefully reassuring smile before going into the lounge and kneeling next to Finn on the ground, leaning an elbow against the couch. He twisted his head to look up at her, wincing at the change of angle. "Hey, pal," she gave him a half smile as she carded her fingers through his hair. "How you doing?"

* * *

The teasing about Bellamy and Clarke's rendezvous on Saturday had lessened through the week, especially after the way a thundercloud would descend on his face everytime her name was simply mentioned after their late night discussion. Monty got the hint pretty quickly, then Jasper and finally Murphy, a little longer on the uptake than everyone else, due to his general lack of sensativity, caught on as well. Lincoln had never really participated, more the strong, silent type, just kept his thoughts on the matter to himself.

Which kind of sucked, because Lincoln was the one person that Bellamy would actually be okay with talking about Clarke with.

Friday came around, and Murphy left early again, another meeting up with his girl. Bellamy was okay with it, because even if Murphy was kind of a dick, he could always rely on him to come in and help out in the weekend if they needed extra work. Afterall, it was named _Blakes Motors_ , but they had helped to build the place up. It had originally been Bellamy's idea, and he was the one who had invested most of the start up capital, but once the boys had joined up, it had become all of theirs. They had talked about changing the name of the business, but had decided against it in the end, mainly because he had already started building up a reputation.

"You guys coming out for a drink tonight?" Jasper asked as he was washing down his hands, soap foaming up to his elbows as he tried to get rid of the grease and oil staining his arms.

"Nah, I'm still helping Octavia move all of her stuff in," Lincoln replied.

"What about you?" Jasper sent a hopeful look over to Bellamy, who just shrugged.

"I'm not sure. You guys going to the usual bar?" Monty and Jasper nodded in response. "Well, if I do decide to come out, I'll meet you there, yeah?"

"Sweet as," Monty grinned as he snatched up his keys.

"See you bitches later!" Jasper cooed out with a grin, wiggling his fingers at Bellamy and Lincoln as the best friends practically skipped out of the garage, clearly excited for their weekend. Lincoln was just finishing up the paper work for a car that was getting picked up on Monday and Bellamy was waiting for him to finish so that they could close up and walk out together.

"So," Lincoln glanced up from where he was scribbling on paper that was resting on a clipboard. "You and Clarke, huh?" Bellamy stared at him for a moment before pursing his lips and nodding. "She's a pretty awesome chick," he stated, looking back down at his form.

"Yeah," Bellamy nodded again. "Yeah, she is." Obviously Lincoln heard something in his voice because he frowned and looked up again.

"What did you do?" He asked simply.

"What makes you think I did something?!" Bellamy protested weakly, but Lincoln just gave him a look and Bellamy relented, sighing. "It wasn't exactly on purpose. She came over the other night to talk about—about something," he really didn't want to get into the hacking side of things right now and although Lincoln gave him a bit of a funny look, he didn't ask. One of the things Bellamy loved about Lincoln. "Anyway, it kind of got heated because she realized I'm not exactly...Not exactly supportive of her lifestyle."

"You mean of the club?" Lincoln clarified.

"Yeah," Bellamy nodded.

"And by not exactly supportive you mean...?"

"It wasn't bad or anything, just..." Bellamy scrunched up his nose and sighed. "Oh, fuck, I don't know! She was just trying to explain that they weren't all bad, and that they're more like a family—she called it a brotherhood—and she said that it was something that I should understand because of, well, because of being in the army, ya know? And I kind of snapped at her for that. Just saying that she didn't know what she was talking about, and we're from different backgrounds that neither of us can understand, and all that bullshit." Lincoln's face was impassive and Bellamy huffed. "You can offer up advice at this point, ya know."

"Do you _want_ advice?" Lincoln asked, raising an eyebrow. Bellamy thought for a second and then jutted his chin forward in an affirmative. "First of all, Jake was army." Bellamy blinked in surprise. "Yeah, he did two tours. He met Abby just before he went on the first one, and they got married when he was on leave about halfway through. I don't know the full story, just what O has told me, and she probably hasn't told me everything." He put down the clipboard and crossed his bulky arms over his chest. "Things were pretty bad when he was discharged, and from what I understand, he wouldn't have been able to make it work with Abby, or be a good father to Clarke if he hadn't found the Phantoms." Bellamy instantly wanted to kick himself. "He found a home with them, and he never looked back—or at least, that's what I've heard." Lincoln pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose. "The whole dying thing might have changed his opinion, though."

"Maybe keep that last comment to yourself in future," Bellamy muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Hey, last time I checked, I wasn't the one suffering from foot in mouth disease," Lincoln shot back with a raise of his eyebrows. Bellamy grumbled under his breath but shrugged and took in a deep breath.

"So you think that I should, uh, maybe—"

"Apologize?" Lincoln suggested pointedly.

"Ye-ah," Bellamy drew out the word with a click of his teeth. "Yeah, probably a good idea."


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, it was Bellamy who begged off work early. Murphy looked a little grumpy, apparently he had wanted to go out Emori, but Lincoln had rolled his eyes and gruffly said that Murphy had been bailing all week and it was time for Bellamy to go off and do his thing tonight. Murphy had narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that and asked Bellamy what exactly he was going off early to do, but Bellamy had just said it was none of his damn business and headed off.

He had thought about going straight to his destination from work, but it was a hot afternoon, and he was covered with oil and grime, and his hair was a little damp from sweat, and that wasn't exactly the way he wanted look and smell like when he confronted the blonde after their little run in at the beginning of the week. So he headed home, and showered, and changed into a clean shirt and pair of jeans and then hopped back in his car and headed toward her tattoo parlor. Lincoln had given him the address, so that he hadn't had to ask Octavia or Murphy and tell them what he was doing, and he trusted that the other man wouldn't say anything.

That was what had drawn Bellamy to Lincoln in the first place.

When he had first joined the army, he was a loud mouthed kid. Sure, he was smart and easy going, but he was also far too cocky for his own good and had no brain to mouth filter. Lincoln was naturally the strong, silent type, and after Bellamy had gotten in trouble one too many times, with other soldiers and also with his superiors, he had taken it upon himself to try and smother Bellamy's bad habits.

Bellamy was damn grateful for it, and that was why when it was announced that Lincoln and Octavia were officially dating, he didn't go out and buy a sniper rifle and take the man out, like he would have done if it had been Murphy.

On the way over to Clarke's shop, he felt his stomach clenching uncomfortably and he shifted in the drivers seat, trying to rid himself of the feeling. He didn't know what it was about this girl, but she had the ability to make him feel like a nervous teenager—and he had never even _been_ a nervous teenager! He had always fund it ridiculously easy to have talk and charm girls. He parked a few shops down from her place, glancing down at his watch as he got out of his car. It was almost six, and he was a bit worried that she was going to be closed.

Normal closing time for places, especially on a Friday, was around five, but Lincoln had assured him that she would still be there. He reached the parlor and then raised his eyes to look up at the sign. _Inked_ —in simple black, block letters. He pushed open the door and walked inside, surprised when he saw how spacious it was. He had been into a lot of tattoo parlors, and most of them were cluttered and smelt strongly of disinfectant or cheap body spray, but this was completely different. It smelt nice, like maybe some kind of incense, but not overwhelmingly strong, and there was music playing from the speakers in the corners of each of the room, some kind of rock music that he recognized. There was a familiar buzzing coming from behind the wall that separate the main shop from the work room, where he was guessing that Clarke was at the moment.

"We're not open for any more business today!" Came a call from the back room, confirming his suspicions, and Bellamy felt his throat tighten at the familiar sound of her voice.

"Uh, Clarke?" He called out, taking a step toward the door at the back of the shop. "It's Bellamy." The buzzing stopped, and he chewed down hard on his lower lip as he heard the muffled sounds of someone speaking and then Clarke appeared in the doorway, looking unfairly gorgeous. Her face was a little flushed, her blonde hair pulled back in a thick braid that fell down her back, with her typical dark eye make up surrounding her azure eyes. She was wearing a loose, white tee-shirt which was hanging loosely off her curvy torso and a pair of denim cut off shorts. The only thing that was different was that she didn't have multiple rings on her fingers, including that family ring that she was usually wearing. "Hey," Bellamy forced a smile at her.

"Hi," Clarke tilted her head to the side questioningly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Bellamy began.

"Well, yeah," Clarke smiled slightly, teasingly. "I kind of gathered that. Given this is my shop, and all." She seemed so completely at ease, which was the complete opposite of how Bellamy was feeling right now. "So, Bellamy?" He realized that he had gone completely silent for a couple of long moments and probably looked like a total idiot.

"Well, I..." Bellamy licked his tongue along his lips, nervously. "I just wanted to talk." Clarke looked at him, narrowing her eyes at him before nodding silently.

"I'm still working, might still be another twenty minutes or so—"

"That's fine!" Bellamy interrupted and there was another pull at the corner of her perfect lips.

"Okay," she nodded. "Just chill out here, then," she shrugged and turned around, heading back into the back room. The buzzing sound of the needle starting again and Bellamy shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He walked slowly around the room, starting at the walls closest to the front door. There were big, open windows, and above the window frames there were splatters of paint and pictures that were sketched, presumably by Clarke. As he continued around the room, there were more sketches, and a photos pinned to the walls. Most of them were of people with freshly done tattoos—damn good quality ones as well—and then some were just of Clarke with her friends, giving the place an intimate feel. There were a couple of tables along the walls with knick knacks on them, thick binders filled with more sketches and photos as Bellamy flipped through, and a couple of old magazines that were torn and crinkled with ages.

Twenty minute stretched into half an hour, and Bellamy was trying not to let his nerves get the better of him, but by the time the buzzing stopped, and he could hear Clarke and her client talking to each other, he was drumming his fingers rapidly against his thighs. A tall, red-headed girl who already had tattoo's up and down her arms, and over her shoulders came out from the back room and she flashed Bellamy a smile. Clarke followed out behind her and went behind the counter beside the door.

"So we want to finish it off next Wednesday, right?" Clarke confirmed and the girl smiled at her with a nod.

"Fuck yeah," she agreed and Clarke grinned. She typed something into her computer, and then the girl passed over her debit card and paid for the work done. "I'll catch you next week, Clarke."

"Sure thing," Clarke waved absent-mindedly as she went back to looking at her screen, finishing off whatever she was doing. The pretty red-head gave Bellamy another smile before walking out the door. Bellamy waited until Clarke finished typing and then she started putting on her rings, which were on the counter, before nodding toward the door. "You wanna lock that? I was meant to be closed ages ago."

"Yeah, sure," Bellamy nodded and closed the front door, flicking over the lock and then turning back toward Clarke, who was now walking out from behind the counter. "Do your appointments usually run late?"

"It was meant to finish about an hour ago, but you can't rush art," Clarke shrugged. "And I've done pretty much the rest of Claire's tattoo's as well, she's cool. I don't mind running late for her." She looked over at him through her eyelashes, an easy smile on her face. "So..."

"Right," Bellamy clenched his jaw and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked over at her, one of her arms loosely by her side while the thumb of the other hand was hooked in her pocket. She wasn't _trying_ to be intimidating, but there was just this confidence that she exuded, the way she was completely comfortable in her own skin, that made him feel nervous just to stand in her presence. "Look, I don't like the way that things went down the other night. I wasn't really thinking and..." he had gone over exactly what he was going to say to her in his head on the way over here but it was all going out the window now. "It comes down to this; I'm not in the position to be judgmental, especially with a girl that I think I really like." That comment caught her by surprise, her blue eyes widening and straightening up a bit. "I haven't felt this way in a long time and I really want to see this through."

"Bell..." he didn't know what it was that she was going to say, but he was going to risk her saying 'no' before she had heard him all out.

"Look, I know we just 'officially' met," he continued. "But it's not as though we knew nothing about each other before then, our history is a little more complicated than your normal persons, and I think that maybe it works? For us?" He shrugged and took in a deep breath through his nose, trying to gauge what her reaction was, but she was giving nothing away, even though her eyes were wide and her kissable, pink lips were parted. "I just—I haven't really felt this way before. And I want to take you out on a date and, well, you know..." he could kick himself right now, but he settled for keeping his mouth shut.

He had said his part and now the ball was in her court.

"So you're here to ask me out on a date?" Clarke clarified, her eyebrows doing that thing again, arching so high they were almost reaching her hairline.

"Uh," Bellamy frowned before jerking his head in a nod. "Yeah."

"And that's after you hack my police records and insult my family?" She continued, a twinge of disbelief in her words.

"Uh," Bellamy felt his heart drop. "Yeah." Clarke was quiet for a long time and Bellamy was certain that he had blown his chance with her, but he forced himself not to move, and to meet her gaze steadily. Finally, she shrugged and dropped her chin in a nod.

"Next Friday, I'll make sure I finish work by four," she began. "Pick me up at my place at five."

"Wh—so that's a yes?" Bellamy asked.

"That's a yes," Clarke confirmed, and a grin spread across his face. "Oh, yeah, and Bellamy? Don't bore me," she shot him a wink and Bellamy met her smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's third chapter...

"Oi, bitch!" Raven shouted from where she was sprawled out on the floor in the lounge. "Bring me more coffee!"

"If you don't stop calling me 'bitch' then I'm going to throw the fucking coffee pot at you!" Came a shout in reply. Raven laughed and looked up at the couch to where her boyfriend was sitting, the play station controller in his hand and a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"She's just in a shitty mood because I keep kicking her ass," Raven smirked.

"I heard that!" Clarke yelled, and Wick laughed. The blonde came back into the lounge, carrying two mugs of coffee in her hands. She sat down on the floor and handed one mug to Raven, while crossing her legs and nursing her own cup in both of her hands. "And you're not kicking my ass..." she squinted up at the score on screen and rolled her eyes. "It's just been a long time since I've played this game," she muttered defensively under her breath.

"On the bright side," Wick made himself comfortable again on the couch, stretching out his legs so that his feet were propped up on the arm rest at the opposite end. "I'm kicking _both_ of your asses!"

"Shut up!" Came a chorus from both girls and Wick laughed as he started up on the new level and focussed his attention on the screen.

"And just so you know, if you light that cigarette up inside, I will actually take it out of your mouth and burn you with it," Clarke warned him as she shot a look over her shoulder before settling back down to watch the screen. Wick made a non-committal noise at the back of his throat, attention still fully on the game. The trio fell quiet for a few minutes, the only noise coming from the music on screen.

"You excited for your date next Friday?" Raven asked through a mouthful of noodles that she had just shoved into her mouth. The game on the TV paused and Clarke frowned back at the blonde.

"You have a date?" Wick asked in surprise.

"Oh my god, is it that unusual for me to be going out?" Clarke rolled her eyes as she leaned forward to pull the carton of noodles toward her and stabbed her fork into it.

"On a date it is!" Wick said, straightening up on the couch. "You never go out on dates—wait, have you _ever_ been on a date?!"

"Yes, I've been a date, you asshole," Clarke snapped at him.

"With who?" Wick shot back at her.

"Oh come on—I was with Lexa for ages!"

"Eight or nine months does not count as 'ages'," Raven argued.

"And did you guys even go out on a date? You guys just kinda got together and looked hot and had sex," Wick replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Have you ever been on an actual, honest to God date?" Clarke looked as though she was about to snap at him again but then she frowned and tilted her head to the side. "I knew it!" Wick crowed. "I fucking knew it!"

"Oh, shut up," Raven rolled her eyes at her boyfriends immaturity. "I'm pretty sure me and you have never been out on an actual date. I mean, do people even _go_ on dates anymore?"

"We have too!"

"Have not!"

"You guys are fucking ridiculous," Clarke couldn't stop her grin and kept eating the noodles, even though they were almost all gone and it was technically Raven's dinner, because she had finished her own about twenty minutes ago.

"I took you out to that Indian place just two weeks ago!" Wick was still protesting.

"Dude, we were stoned as shit and I had my pyjama shirt on!" Raven cried and Clarke snorted.

"I'm sure I've taken you out on a date before," Wick grumbled, although he wasn't looking as confident now. Raven just shook her head at him and then leaned over to snatch the carton of noodles from Clarke. "Anyway, back to our Princess," Wick turned his gaze back to the blonde and pursed his lips teasingly at Clarke in a kissing motion. "A date, aye? I'm going to assume that it's with Blake. You and him looked good together at the party the other night—and if I'm remembering correctly, you two actually disappeared around the same time, didn't you?" There was a sly smirk on his face. "Did you two...?"

"Don't you wish you knew, perve," Clarke rolled her eyes at him.

"To be honest, I preferred the details of your love life with Lexa," Wick grinned. "The girl on girl action really gets me going."

"God, men are disgusting," Raven shook her head.

"And you never even _got_ any details of my love life with Lexa!" Clarke cried.

"Oh, but the images I imagined in my head were just...Mm! They were sublime!" Wick winked down at the pair of them and the two girls groaned simultaneously. They all fell quiet for a moment before Clarke sighed and then nodded.

"Yeah, it's with Bellamy," she admitted.

"Ooh!" Wick sounded like a teenage girl. "Where are you guys going?"

"I don't know, it's up to him," Clarke said, before a thought came to her and she spun around to face him, her eyes narrowed. "You are sworn to secrecy, okay? If I find out that you've been running your mouth like some bitch to Finn or Murphy or anyone, I will smack you so hard, you'll forget that thing that you do with your tongue that Raven likes so much."

"Hey, no fair! She gets to know about our love life but I don't get to hear about the lesbian action?!" Wick pouted. "That hurts."

"Aw, poor little Wick," Raven cooed, not sounding at all sincere as she reached back to grab the play station controller from him and took over the game. "Oh, yeah, by the way—the offer is still open if anyone wants to come to the gun show with me this Sunday!" She had been excited about the gun show for weeks, and was still trying to convince someone to come with her.

"If we were actually allowed to _shoot_ the guns, I would be all for it," Clarke said.

"I still don't want you going," Wick said sullenly, sounding completely different from the carefree and joking man he was just seconds ago. Clarke frowned, looking back at him and then at Raven's, who's mouth was now pulled in a tight line. As far as she was aware, Wick had no problem with Raven going, but from the look on her friends face, it was clear this wasn't the first time they had had this conversation.

"What's going on?" Clarke asked, eyes darting between them.

"He's just paranoid about me going out of the city," Raven muttered, stabbing at the 'x' on the controller to send shots firing off at an enemy robot on screen.

"It's not paranoid when someone went out of their way to beat up two of our brothers," Wick growled and it clicked with Clarke what it was about.

Finn and Wells.

Quiet fell, but it wasn't the comfortable silence that had been falling throughout the night. This one was tense, and Clarke pursed her lips, wondering if she should make an excuse to leave the room. It had been almost a week since Finn and Wells had been beaten up, and the club was still trying to find out who had carried it out. Abby was keeping Clarke up to date, not that there was too much to know yet. Kane had Sinclair working over time on it as well, and Finn and Wells were roughing people up all over the city, absolutely furious, just like the rest of the brothers. No one had claimed responsibility, which was smart on their behalf, because once the Phantoms found out who it was, they were going to pay.

Likely with their lives.

Clarke reached over and touched her fingertips against Raven's elbow for a split second, and then did the same thing, reaching back to touch Wick's knee, showing her support to both of them, before she wrestled the controller away from Raven and took over the game.

* * *

"Isn't it kind of weird that you're here, helping me get ready for a date with _your_ brother?" Clarke asked as she looked at Octavia's reflection in the floor length mirror that she was standing in front of. Octavia grinned up from where she was stretched out on Clarke's bed, making herself at home by reorganizing the pillows so that they were propped up behind her.

"No," Octavia replied. "Not at all."

"I think it kind of is," Clarke said as she ran her fingers through her hair, scrunching up her nose critically. "Should I leave it down? Or tie it up?"

"Why are you asking me?" The dark haired girl smirked at her. "I thought that it was _weird_ I was here, helping you get ready for a date with my brother?"

"Well, since you're here, you might as well make yourself useful," Clarke shot back at her with a smirk. " _And_ one way that you could help is by telling me where he's taking me tonight so that I can actually dress for the occasion!"

"I already told you—I have no idea!" Octavia repeated what she had already told Clarke a couple of times already. "I know the same amount as you do."

"Something outdoorsy," Clarke was practically glowering at her reflection. "That tells me nothing—you don't think he's taking me hiking or some shit, right? Because I am _not_ into that." Octavia made a face as she thought before shaking her head.

"No, I don't think that's it," she said. Clarke let out a groan and then ripped off the singlet she was wearing, walking back over to her set of drawers. Bellamy had texted her through the week, confirming that they were still on, and saying that she should wear something for the outdoors. Clarke had asked what it was they were doing, but he hadn't given anything away, just sending back a text with a smiling emoji.

She had been all filled with confidence when he had first come into her shop, asking for a date. She had the upper hand because he was the one who had come back to her, after their awkward encounter at the beginning of that week. But now...Now she was standing in the middle of her bedroom in a pair of leggings and a sports bra with her hair hanging limply around her face.

" _God_ ," she growled out as she rummaged around in her drawers and Octavia let out a laugh.

"It's ten to five," she sung out after checking the time on her phone. "You better hurry up and get dressed."

" _Not helping_ ," Clarke snapped at her as she found another shirt, a loose black shirt that announced in white, block letters 'Bitch, don't kill my vibe' that was casual but sexy, with the way it was see-through and hung forward and showed off a hint of cleavage. She pulled a grey hoodie out of her closet and threw it on and then turned around to face Octavia. "I guess this is gonna have to do?"

"You look hot, Clarke," Octavia assured her. "Although, maybe do something with your hair." Clarke sighed and looked back at the mirror. She stared at herself for a moment before deciding to plait her hair and throw it over her shoulder.

When she had been thinking about this date during the week before Bellamy had text her, she had sort of imagined that she would be in a pretty dress and high heels, _not_ an outfit that she would wear on a lazy Sunday or when she was being dragged out for an early morning run by Octavia. It's not that she looked terrible, she knew she still looked good, she just knew that she could look better.

"You know, maybe I should—" there was a knock at the door that interrupted Clarke's sentence and Octavia grinned and clapped her hands.

"That's him!" She announced unnecessarily. "Go on—have fun on your date!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hope the three chapters made up for the delay!  
> Once again, I'm very sorry.  
> Let me know what you guys think :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while !  
> So I'll upload a couple of chapters to make it up to you !

Octavia wisely stayed in the bedroom when Clarke went to the front door, and she took in a nervous suck of breath before she opened up the door. Bellamy was standing there, wearing a pair of old looking jeans that were worn thin in places, but that looked as though they had been specially molded to his legs and ass, and also a tight-fitting blue tee-shirt which showed off his impressive biceps.

Maybe her mouth watered just a little bit.

"Hey!" She greeted him with a grin as she grabbed a pair of sneakers from the shoe rack inside, just beside the front door.

"Hey," Bellamy smiled easily back at her, looking adorable with dimples and a few curls of dark hair falling over his forehead.

"You going to tell me where we're going yet?" She asked as she laced up her sneakers and grabbed her wallet and keys from the side table.

"Patience is a virtue. Did you know that?" Bellamy teased her lightly as she shut the front door and locked it behind her. Octavia would go out the back door, and she had her own set of keys anyway.

"Well, it's not one of my virtues," Clarke informed him airily as they walked down the path toward his car.

"I can tell," Bellamy smirked over at her as he took a few quick steps to get out in front of her so that he reached the car first, opening up the door for her. Clarke flashed him a smile as she slid inside the silver Holden Commodore, raising an eyebrow at how meticulously clean it was. Bellamy walked around to the drivers side and got in, waiting until they were both buckled up before starting the engine.

"Clearly you got all the tidy genes in the family," she commented. "I've seen the way that Octavia lives—I'm surprised she can ever find anything to wear."

"Yeah, I guess that's something that comes with being the eldest," Bellamy shrugged as he pulled away from the curb and started driving down the street. There was music playing softly through the radio and Clarke leaned her head back against the head rest, tapping her fingers to the beat of the song. "So how's your week been?" Bellamy asked after a couple minutes of silence and Clarke couldn't help but let out a surprised snort of laughter. "What?! I'm making polite conversation!"

"I know, I know," she grinned over at him. "Anyway, my week was good," she paused for a second and then shot him a sideways look. "What about yours?"

"It was good," Bellamy played along with the slightly awkward small talk that he had created. "Murphy has been cutting out early most days to go and see Emori."

"Oh, yup," Clarke nodded knowingly. "Have you met her yet?"

"Nope," Bellamy shook his head. "I mean, we're not exactly the kind of guys who go around and have meet-and-greet dinners."

"No, but he's still your friend. And he's also Murphy," she reasoned with a smirk. "I figured he would have wanted to show her off and shit by this point."

"Valid point," Bellamy conceded with a nod. "But, no. I haven't met her yet." Clarke nodded and flashed a smile over at him before looking back out the window. She had no idea where they were going, but she was a bit confused when rather than driving back toward the main city, he was driving toward the highway that lead out of town. One of the things that Clarke loved about Ark was that the city was full and buzzing and everything she ever wanted from big city life. But then it only took about ten to fifteen minutes of driving before you were in the countryside, gorgeous, rolling countryside.

"Uh," Clarke frowned. "Can you please tell me where we're going?" She asked.

"We're almost there," Bellamy promised her with another grin. He slowed down and pulled off the main highway, chancing a look over at Clarke who was staring out the window, catching a glimpse of where they were heading.

"Paint balling?" She let out a squeak. "Are you serious?!" Bellamy's hands tightened around the steering wheel, not sure if it was a good or bad squeak.

"Is that a good thing?"

"Oh my god—I haven't been paint balling in so long! This is amazing!" She assured him, looking excitedly back out the window as he indicated off the side road and drove down the bumpy driveway that lead up to the paintball arena and main building. Clarke was definitely glad that she had heeded Bellamy's warning and gone with casual, outdoors clothes, because it was likely they were going to be ripped and ruined after this game. There were about three or four other cars parked up outside when they got out, and Clarke was almost bouncing with excitement.

Bellamy couldn't help but preen slightly with pride at the gleeful smile on her face.

He had made a good choice.

"You want to head in?" He asked her, nodding toward the door leading up to the shop.

"Yup," Clarke nodded and lead the way up the stairs. Bellamy had come out here a couple of times, but not for years. He had been racking his brain for somewhere to take Clarke—somewhere not boring—and when this place had come to mind and he had Googled it, he had been relieved to find out that it was still open. There were gulleys and bush fields, and while it wasn't the kind of place Bellamy would usually take a girl, he had a feeling that Clarke would appreciate this kind of place.

He was glad he wasn't wrong.

While there were other cars there, everyone else must have already paid and started because there was no one else waiting in line. Bellamy approached the man behind the counter, paying for them to have about two hours out there and two hundred and fifty paint balls. Clarke was already sizing up which gun was best for her by the time he had paid, and he had to admit, he kind of liked that she knew what she was doing.

"Did you guys want overalls with your helmets?" The facilitator asked. Bellamy glanced over at Clarke, who just cocked her eyebrow at him and gave him a cheeky smirk.

"Nah, we're good," she answered for them. "Unless, of course, you want them," she fluttered her eyelashes at Bellamy and gave him a joking, condescending smile that made him shake his head determinedly. "Although I think we'll take some vests," she said.

"Aw, is the Princess a little bit scared after all?" Bellamy teased her as the facilitator grabbed two vests and handed them over, waiting to make sure they were fastening them on securely.

"Dude, this is purely for your protection," Clarke smirked at him as she picked up the canister with her paint balls and picked up her gun. "You ready?"

"Ready," Bellamy nodded.

"Let's do this."

* * *

Bellamy knew that Clarke had good aim—he had seen her at the shooting range and she had _incredible_ aim, to be specific. But that had been with an un-moving target. When you were actually running, and your target was running and ducking and trying to avoid you, that was a completely different story. So Bellamy had planned on taking it easy, maybe not running as fast as he could typically run, or aiming as best as he could.

He was wrong.

He was so wrong.

Clarke was kicking his ass, and he was loving every second of it.

Their time was almost up when she fired another shot at him, managing to get him directly between the shoulder blades as he ran for cover behind a grouping of bushes. It stung and he let out a hiss through his teeth, but he couldn't stop the smile that curved his lips upward when he heard the triumphant crow of Clarke from about ten or fifteen meters away.

"Do you surrender yet?!" Clarke cried out. Bellamy rolled his eyes.

"You clearly don't know me!" He shouted back at her. "I'm never going to surrender!"

"Then it's your funeral!" Clarke screamed out and there was the smacking sound of a bullets smacking the bushes that he was hiding behind. He laughed again as he took a step back, making sure there was no chance of any of the paint spatter hitting him. Bellamy took a moment to count how many pellets he had left, and winced when he realized he only had about twenty. But Clarke had to be running low as well, so it would be about fair.

"Hey, Princess?" Bellamy called out, pushing off from the squat he was currently in to try and see over the top of the bushes without getting shot. "You realize I'm closer to the flag than you are, right?"

"Is that so, Blake?" Clarke called back, her voice taunting.

"Damn straight," Bellamy grinned as he loaded up as many paint balls he could into his canister. "And you realize there's no way in hell that I'm going to let you win and go back to Murphy and tell him that I got beaten by a girl, date or no date?!"

"Oh, boo motherfucking hoo!" Clarke shouted out with a laugh and Bellamy couldn't stop his grin and shake of his head. "You're gonna loose, Blake!"

"You might want to reign that enthusiasm in, Princess!" Bellamy shouted back at her. "And bottle that energy up so that you can focus it on capturing the flag!" There was no response and Bellamy assumed that she was mapping out her path to get to the flag before him. They had already finished three rounds, 2-1 to Clarke, and he was determined to break even with her on their last round. The flag that they were after was maybe a two minute run from where he was at the moment, and for Clarke to get in front of him, she was actually going to need to get _past_ him.

Which he refused to let happen.

Bellamy pushed away some of the the leaves and branches in front of him, trying to catch a glimpse of Clarke's position. He couldn't see her, but then he didn't have a wide range of view because of his sheltered spot. He pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder, wondering if he should make a break for it, but then he heard the snap of a branch nearby and he swung his eyes back around, gaze narrowed. There was no one behind him, or to either side, and he flattened his lips into a line was he considered his options.

He could make a run for it. It was risky, but there was a chance that he could make it, if he was quick, and stayed behind the trees.

Or he could find her, and take her down before making a run for it. That would definitely be more satisfying, given how much she had been rubbing in his face how much better she was doing than him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts—stupidly caught up in his thoughts—that he didn't even process that he wasn't alone behind the bush until there was a muzzle being pressed against the back of his neck. Bellamy froze, a rush of annoyance flooding over him before shaking his head in amusement. And then his skin prickled all over when he felt a brush of hair against the nape of his neck and the warmth of her breath.

"Gotcha," she whispered, cutting off with a giggle. Bellamy shook his head and got to his feet slowly, letting his gun swing free on the leather strap that was around his neck and holding up his hands in mock surrender. She turned around to face him, and felt his body tense again as he saw her properly for the first time in almost two hours.

Her cheeks were flushed red, and here eyes were glowing. She hadn't worn much make up to begin with, which he had loved, because even though he thought it was ridiculously hot the way she painted her eyes up all dark so that the blue was emphasized, he thought she looked downright beautiful all natural. Her hair had started falling out of the braid she had it pulled back in, and parts were a little damp with sweat, curling around her face.

She looked gorgeous.

"Thanks," Clarke gave him a half smile and Bellamy flushed a deep red when he realized that he had uttered that last comment out loud. Clarke let her grip on the rifle loosen and one of her hands lashed out to grip the blue button shirt he had worn over the short sleeved grey tee-shirt, pulling him toward her. Their lips came together, and Bellamy forgot all about the white flag that he was meant to be running toward, and everything else around them faded away.

Her lips were soft, just as soft and perfect as they looked, and despite her assertive and confident personality, she let him take lead, which he liked, and appreciated. He opened his mouth, encouraging her to do the same, but he didn't slide his tongue between her lips straight away, taking the time to get a feel for the way that she moved. She tasted like mint, something citrusy and faintly of cigarettes, which he knew that he would be able to get used to really quickly. He licked his way into her mouth and she made this tiny, little noise at the back of her throat that made him want to shred both of their clothes off.

When Clarke pulled away from him, her lips were swollen and pink and she had this glazed look in her eyes that he hoped he was going to put there a hundred and one more times. For a moment she just stared at him, before winking and taking off running toward the winning white flag, leaving him in her dust.


	14. Chapter 14

After paintball, Bellamy took Clarke to a burger joint. They were both sweaty and stained with paint and definitely in no condition to go anywhere nice. But just like with the paintball itself, Bellamy had been right, and Clarke had looked absolutely content, stuffing a cheeseburger and onion rings in her mouth. Bellamy had almost laughed out loud when her order was bigger than his, but she had just retorted that 'kicking ass that bad used a lot of calories'.

He appreciated that.

He liked a girl with an appetite, and who really didn't care what opinion he might have of her if she ate more than him.

It showed confidence, which he already knew and liked about her.

There hadn't been anymore kissing, which Bellamy had to admit he was a little disappointed about, but that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed the rest of the evening. Quite the opposite, actually. They hadn't spoken about the MC, or about Bellamy's time in the army, keeping everything in the above board. They had gotten into a heated argument of Iron Man vs Captain America, due to the latest movie coming out, and Bellamy had actually thought Clarke might empty the rest of her milkshake cup over his head when he said that he felt as though Captain America had been acting like a petulant child throughout the movie.

God, this girl was verging on damn perfect.

When he drove her home, she had pursed her lips, and then invited him to a club party the next night. The apprehension had shown on Bellamy's face, and she had told him that he could bring Murphy with him, because Murphy absolutely loved club parties. Bellamy had thought about it for a few minutes, and then nodded. The look that she had given him was worth it, and Bellamy figured, what the hell?

It was a party.

You've been to one, you've been to them all; how different could it be?

* * *

"Fucking hell," Murphy groaned as he looked down at the coin he and Bellamy had just flipped to see who was going to be sober driver that night. Murphy had lost, but then it wasn't as though Bellamy was going to get completely drunk. He wasn't too sure what he was going to get himself into, but there was no way he wasn't going to have his wits about him when he was around a gang of bikers, including the mother and step-father of the girl he was trying to impress.

"Are you bringing Emori to this thing?" Bellamy asked as he checked himself in the mirror for the fourth time that evening.

"Uh," Murphy let out a shout of laughter. "No. No way."

"Why not?" Bellamy looked confused as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Do you have no idea what you're getting yourself into tonight?" Murphy questioned and Bellamy shrugged, looking clueless. "Oh, buddy," Murphy laughed as he clapped his hand down on his shoulder. "You poor thing," he shook his head and walked toward the front door. Bellamy felt his nerves growing again when they were in Murphys car driving over to the clubhouse. Bellamy had only been there once, and that was when he had been dropping off Jake's killer, and that was part of the reason that he had been worried about showing up there again. Another part he was worried about was being under the watchful eye of Kane and the other Phantoms who viewed Clarke as their Princess and pretty much perfect. And then the last part of the reason was Clarke herself.

He wanted to make a good impression. Last night had gone well—really well—and he was a bit worried about screwing that up with tonight.

At least, that had been the last part of the reason, until Murphy had snorted in surprise when he had realized that Bellamy had absolutely no idea what he was walking into at this party. After he had gotten home last night, he had tried to remember everything he had ever heard about the MC parties. He knew that there were plenty of girls around the city who would love to go, mainly because of the free flowing drugs and alcohol. Also because so many girls dropped their panties faster than they could blink when they were approached by a man in a biker vest.

The club house was on the outskirts of the city, and Murphy seemed to know exactly where he was going, pulling up behind a bunch of cars and motorbikes that were parked outside the building. It was a little after eleven, and there was music playing loudly and shouts and laughter coming through the open doors and windows. Bellamy took in a deep breath through his nose and Murphy smirked as he looked over at him.

"It's all good, man," he told him. "Just...Watch what you say."

"Watch what I say?" Bellamy gave him a shocked look. "Then how the hell did _you_ get out of here alive, if you're meant to watch what you say?"

"Well, Clarke vouched for me," Murphy grinned. "And, well, I kind of just made sure I didn't get too plastered when I first came to one of these," he made a face and pursed his lips. "Oh, and not that you need to worry about it too much, but if one of the bitches in there is with one of the Phantoms, you don't go after her. They get first dibs on them."

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to be a problem with me," Bellamy shook his head. "Because there's only one girl here tonight that I'm going to be focusing on, and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have invited me if she was interested in someone else."

"Yeah, she's not playing with you," Murphy told him as they walked toward the club house, starting up the steps. "Clarke's not like most girls, she's not into playing games and shit." He paused as he reached the top of the stairs and glanced to the side, where there was a girl smoking a joint and looking completely uninterested in them. "You're...You're into her, right?" Murphy looked a little awkward asking the question and Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah? I wouldn't be here if I wasn't?" Bellamy answered.

"Yeah, well," Murphy rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around uncomfortably. "Just, like, with Clarke and all...Well, I really like her and everything. I just w—want to make sure that, you know—"

"Murphy," Bellamy tilted his head forward, an amused smile on his face. "Are you trying to give me 'the talk'?"

"No!" Murphy scrunched up his nose, looking awkward. "No, no, not 'the talk'! Just, like—I don't know. Like, don't hurt her, or whatever." Bellamy's smile dropped from his face when he saw how serious Murphy was, and he nodded.

"I promise, Murphy," he told him. "I'm not going to hurt her." That seemed to mollify Murphy because his face melted into his usual, cocky smile, and he looked as though he was going to say something, when there was a roar of laughter from inside and then the door swung open, two men stumbling outside. Bellamy jumped back in surprise as they rolled down the stairs and onto the dusty ground below. They were fighting, but it looked as though it was all in good nature, not really throwing any punches that were going to do any damage.

But it wasn't them that Bellamy was watching.

He was looking through the door, into the club house, his eyes wide.

He had been to a number to parties in his life time, and he had been to quite a few that had gotten out of hand—especially during some weekends when he was on leave during his time in the army. But he could already tell that this was a whole different kind of party.

"Come on," Murphy lead the way into the brightly lit up room which was overflowing with noise and downright debauchery. Bellamy had to walk slowly, so that he could take it all in as he went. The first thing that he could see, that he had seen through the doorway when it had first swung open, had been three girls, all pretty much naked, minus the tiny mini skirts that they were wearing, their tits on full display for anyone who was looking. There was a fourth girl slumped over the edge of the pool table, her arms braced behind her and a line of coke across her stomach. A man in a vest with a Phantoms patch across the back leaned down and snorted it up, letting out a groan of pleasure and then lunging forward to smack his lips against hers.

The rest of the room was in similar disarray. Bellamy noticed Wick in the corner, sitting on a bar stool next to a bar where two girls, once again topless, were mixing up drinks and passing them over. Raven was standing next to him, talking to Finn, dressed in a sexy but definitely not slutty outfit of mini-shorts and a halter neck. There were a couple of couches against the walls, and Kane was sitting on one of them, a dark skinned man sitting next to him, and a woman in a skimpy red dress was sitting on the arm of the chair on his other side, holding his drink. She looked as though she would chew her own leg off for attention, but he wasn't sparing her a second glance.

Most of the men in the room had Phantoms patches on, drinks and joints in their hands, all of them looking drunk and stoned or high. They were laughing, groping girls or joking with their brothers, looking as though they didn't have a care in the world. Most of the woman in the room had barely any clothes on, and were being treated accordingly, Bellamy catching a glimpse of one woman in the doorway leading down a hallway into the back of the building on her hands and knees in front of a man, her mouth wide open as he pushed his cock into her mouth. When they were finished and the pair walked back out into the main room, Bellamy recognized it as Dax, the man he had met briefly when he had lunch at Kane and Abby's.

The small percentage of woman in the room who were clothed, were being treated with a whole lot more of respect than the rest of them. From what he could pick up, they were the ones who were either with one of the Phantoms or family members of them.

And Clarke was one of them.

"Hey," she sung out, appearing at his side and nudging him with her hip.

"Hey," Bellamy smiled a little easier, feeling more comfortable with her at his side.

"You guys took your time getting here," she pouted just a little, her lower lip sticking out adorably. Bellamy couldn't help but lift his thumb and brush it over her lip, giving her a small smile.

"Well, I'm here now," he told her, his voice low, but loud enough for just her to hear.

"Yes," Clarke smirked at him, taking his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Yes, you are."

* * *

Once the initial shock had worn off, Bellamy found himself having a good time. He could definitely see why Murphy enjoyed coming to these parties—if he wasn't interested in Clarke and just wanted an easy one night stand, this was the place to be. But it was clear even though the place was verging on crazy, Clarke was completely comfortable with her surroundings, and the big, gruff men around them all doted on her. Bellamy got hard looks from a lot of them, although it seemed as though they had been warned to leave him alone because none of them actually said anything to him, even Finn. Kane nodded over at him and he got a warm smile from Abby when she came into the main room and walked over to her husband.

Clarke was drinking, but she could handle her alcohol, because her sentences were all still legible and she was standing steadily on her own two feet, despite the high heels that she was wearing. She stayed close to his side, but she wasn't crowding him, mostly talking to Raven and Murphy, and letting him talk to Wick easily.

It was almost two in the morning when Clarke turned to Bellamy, sliding one hand underneath his shirt so that it was laying flat against the small of his back. A shiver went down his spine, sparking right to the ends of his toes as she leaned in close, the tip of her nose touching the shell of his ear as she breathed out lightly. She smelt like something with citrus and coconut and _fuck_ , she just smelt so good.

"You want to get out of here?" She whispered. Bellamy felt his cock harden slightly just at the idea of what they were going to get up to when they left this place, but he managed to refrain from nodding his head spastically.

"There's nothing that I would want more, but are you sure your judgement isn't a little...Impaired at the moment?" He asked quietly, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, trying to keep his voice even. Clarke made a noise at the back of her throat and stepped in front of him, the only indication that she had been drinking was the slight smell of bourbon on her breath, but looking completely put together other than that.

"I'm a big girl, Bellamy," Clarke said evenly. "And I know what I want. Are you really saying 'no' right now?" Bellamy stared at her for a half a beat, already knowing that saying 'no' to her would possibly be one of the hardest moments of his life.

And stupidest.

"Let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

Murphy was more than happy to take them home. He had stayed sober, as per his agreement with Bellamy, but he had smoked a bowl of weed with Wick, so he was feeling pretty relaxed, and most definitely horny. Bellamy offered the front seat to Clarke, but she had said that she was fine with the back, and had hopped in without his help. Murphy kept glancing between them, a stupid smirk on his face, and if Clarke wasn't in the car with them, Bellamy had absolutely no doubt that there would be a flood of dirty comments coming out of his friends mouth.

Actually, given the friendship he already had with the blonde, he was kind of surprised that Murphy was actually holding back right now.

Murphy pulled up to the curb outside Clarke's house and Bellamy quickly got out, walking to the back door and opening it for her. She flashed him a smile and said goodnight to Murphy before starting to walk up to the house. Bellamy took in a deep breath as he pretended to be fiddling with something on the door to buy him a couple of seconds to get himself together.

"Just remember to wrap it," Murphy winked at him and Bellamy narrowed his eyes.

"Fuck you," he muttered, but there was no venom in his voice.

"No, no, you got it all wrong," Murphy smirked in mock confusion. "You're meant to be fucking _her_ ," he pointed over Bellamy's shoulder to the blonde that was walking up toward her house. Bellamy shot him one last glare before shutting the door firmly and following after Clarke. She fumbled a little with the key, but then the door swung open and they were both stepping inside. It was dark as Bellamy kicked off his shoes, and he was chewing down on his bottom lip as he followed the shadow of Clarke's figure, and the click of her heels on the wooden floor.

She didn't turn off at the lounge, or the kitchen, but continued past, to what Bellamy presumed was her bedroom. Every nerve in his body was on high alert as he entered the room after her, able to make her out almost perfectly as she stood opposite him, the blue-grey of the moon pouring through the windows. He would have usually expected the curtains to be shut but the windows bordered onto the back yard which was surrounded by a high fence, so no one was going to be able to see them. And he liked the fact that he could see her, even if her face was shadowed.

"Maybe I should have had more to drink..." Clarke let out a huff of a laugh, and Bellamy realized that she was feeling as nervous as he was.

Which made his heart warm and his stomach turn.

Here she was, the confident Princess, and _he_ was making her nervous.

Bellamy's breath caught in his throat as he took a step closer to her, and he saw her shift from foot to foot. He could still see what she was wearing, even though her outfit for the night was burnt into his brain. She had been wearing a casual black dress, it was quite loose fitting, swinging around her upper thighs, but short. So short. Short enough that every time she had stretched, it had lifted up and given Bellamy a hint at her purple, lacy sweetheart cut underwear underneath that shaped around her perfect, toned ass.

His cock had been twitching all night at the thought of getting his hands on it.

"I, uh," Clarke was searching for something to say, fiddling with the hem of her dress nervously and Bellamy decided to take things into his own hands. He came over to where she as standing. He put his hands on her hips and tilted his head forward, his thumbs slowly beginning to rotate in circles against the silky material of her dress. Clarke let her body be lolled forward with his movements, until her body was pressed up right against his. His hands moved downwards, finding the hem of her dress and pulling it upward slowly, his fingers smoothing their way over her thighs.

His hands slid around, over her ass, his blunt nails scratching lightly through the thin material, before they were at the base of her spine, and he encouraged her to press herself harder against him. She let out a little noise at the back of her throat as his arousal pressed against her, only separated by the denim of his jeans and the thin material of her underwear. Clarke lifted her hands and looped them loosely around his neck, her nose brushing first against his jaw, and then his cheek, before touching his nose, her breath on his lips. Bellamy continued to massage the skin of her back, his fingers splayed out and almost spanning her slim waist and back. His cock was throbbing and they were barely touching yet, and he finally closed the breath of a distance between their lips.

Clarke sighed in relief at the pressure and her body melted against his in a way that made it seem as though their bodies were made to be molded together. It began with slow, open-mouthed kisses, and Clarke's fingers played with the curls at the base of his neck, tugging lightly at them. Bellamy shifted them backwards so that Clarke was pressed against the wall next to the window, his hands skimming up and down her sides, his hands burning over her skin, loving the feeling of her body reacting to his. She was shifting against him, rolling her hips ever so slightly, and as his tongue licked inside her mouth, she had another noise at the back of her throat.

Bellamy could die a happy man listening to the noises she made.

His tongue encouraged hers to dance with his and she responded eagerly, the kiss picking up pace. Their tongues moved together, tasting one another and learning each others movements. His blunt fingernails scratched over her skin, before his hands slid back down and squeezed her ass. Clarke felt a spark in her stomach, the kind that threatened to spread a pleasurable fire through every limb in her body. It just continued to grow as Bellamy rubbed firmly at her ass, slipping underneath her underwear and massaging the tight, soft globes. When they pulled apart for a breath of air, Bellamy lifted up her dress, pulling it over her head and throwing it to the side, leaving her in only underwear, bra and her high heels.

"God, you're gorgeous, Clarke," Bellamy breathed as he took her in with hooded eyes. Clarke hummed out a noise and one of Bellamy's hands came up to cup her jaw, brushing over her cheekbone. She was chewing down on her swollen lip and he ran his thumb along her lips, sucking in a breath when her tongue flickered out to touch his digit and drew it into the wet heat of her mouth. His eyes darkened at the motion and he leaned back in, his hand resting around her neck, as he claimed her mouth again. He kissed her until he was so hard in his pants that it was painful, and then he pulled away, letting out a short laugh.

"What?" Clarke mumbled, smiling at him.

"You feel amazing," he admitted. "And you taste even better." Clarke's smile widened and her hands went to his shirt, first pushing off his jacket and then jerking his shirt upwards so that their naked torsos could be pressed together. Bellamy found the clasp of her bra and let it fall to the ground, and Clarke's smile dropped from her face as the cool night air hit her nipples, making them harden even more than they already were. He could smell her arousal in the air already and he knew that he was straining against against the zipper of his jeans. He leaned forward, nosing at her throat, his lips pressing against her neck and his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. Clarke's body jerked, holding onto his shoulders to keep herself upright. He continued his downward descent, his tongue flicking out to taste her intermittently until he was bent down forward enough that her breasts were directly in front of her. When he closed his mouth around one nipple, Clarke let out a squeak, her body jerking forward.

"Oh, God," Clarke cried, her fingers tightening in the curls of his hair, holding him against her. Bellamy flattened his tongue against her nipple, one of his hands touching her other breast, his fingers brushing over the underside, the pad of his thumb pressing against the pebbled nipple. Clarke squirmed under his touch, and he switched, so that his mouth was on the other breast. "Oh, fuck, Bellamy..."

He pressed a kiss to her stomach and looked up at her through his thick eyelashes that Octavia used to say were wasted on a boy, and could see her blue eyes glowing with arousal, her pupils blown wide. He lowered himself so he was down on his knees in front of her, and he hooked his fingers on either side of her underwear and slowly pulled them down her toned thighs. The smell of her arousal hit him even stronger now, and Clarke shivered under his hot and heavy gaze that was making her skin prickle all over. She was staring down at him, her blonde hair framing her face and her mouth swollen and red from his attentions.

Clarke's muscles contracted under his touch as he continued to press kisses over her stomach and hips, and his roughened hands slid up the underside of her thighs, reaching her ass and caressing it lightly. His fingers buried themselves in his hair as his tongue flicked out over her skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses across her belly and further down to the apex of her legs.

"Oh, god, Bellamy," Clarke breathed as his fingers dipped between her ass cheeks, tightening his grip on them and sending shock waves through her body.

"Spread your legs, doll," Bellamy whispered, and she did so without a second thought. His fingers massaged down her crack, until they brushed behind her back entrance and made her body snap forward. Bellamy loved how responsive she was—loved the way she was starting to shake under his ministrations even though he hadn't pushed inside her yet. His stubble from the day gently scratched at her sensitive thighs and she let out a sigh. He gripped her ass harder, nails digging in lightly, and when her hips jerked forward, he pressed a kiss to her slit, which was beginning to drip. Clarke shivered and he smiled as his tongue lapped over her clit.

"Fuck," Clarke gasped as his tongue stroked her softly. He purposefully touched her clit, over and over again, even though he knew that it was so sensitive that it jerked her right toward the edge without any other kind of stimulation. He let his tongue find it's way down to her hole, moaning as he tasted her, letting her taste and smell smother his senses. His nose bumped against her clit, making her whimper and shake. As he began eating her, his tongue made occasional long, flat licks up her folds, scraping his teeth over her clit and loving every time she jolted her body forward. "Bellamy...I—I, oh god, Bell, I—" she was stuttering, and he could feel her body twitching, and he took pity on her, one of his hands leaving where it was gripping her ass and sliding two fingers inside her wet heat. "Fuck!" She screamed out, her orgasm taking over her roughly, spilling over his hand and down his arm. Bellamy stood up, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her backwards with him, until he was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was standing in front of him, her thighs still shaking.

"C'mere, baby," Bellamy murmured, and she sat down on his lap, straddling his strong thighs. His hands slid back up her back as their lips came together again, the kiss a little more frantic and Clarke was grinding down on him, her fingers scratching at his shoulders. Somehow she managed to kick of her high heels and then they began the awkward scuffle of trying to get his jeans and briefs off even though she was on his lap. They managed to get them on the ground, and their naked bodies came together fully for the first time, making them both groan in appreciation.

Her thighs and lower lips were wet as she rubbed against him, and he knew that he was leaking pre-cum just brought on by how responsive and aroused that she was.

"Have you got a condom?" Bellamy asked, his lips slick with spit as he spoke against her mouth, and Clarke nodded in reply. She pulled away from him and reached for the bedside table, jerking open a drawer and flailing around for a few seconds. When she came back, she was holding up a little foil wrapper with a proud grin and Bellamy let out a short laugh. She winked at him and shuffled back on his thighs, ripping open the condom wrapper with her teeth before reaching between them and easily slid it over his cock. Bellamy whimpered at the back of his throat as her fingers touched him for a split second before she pulled back. "Shit..." Bellamy groaned as Clarke lifted herself up and positioned herself over him. "Clarke, you're fucking gorgeous..."

"Right back at you, handsome," she breathed out, giving him one last wink before she slid down, taking him into her tight heat.


	16. Chapter 16

Bellamy woke up first, and it wasn't with a jerking start like the last time he had stayed over at Clarke's place. He took his time waking up, not bothering to open his eyes when he first came to consciousness, feeling the warm, soft skin of Clarke against his side and the smell of her skin and citrus shampoo surrounding him. When he finally did open his eyes and look down at her, he could see that she was still fast asleep. Her hand was resting on his sturdy chest, her ivory skin a stark difference to the dark tan of his body, and hell, he liked that. After that, he was pretty sure he fell in and out of sleep a couple of times, because the next time he fully woke up, there was a pair of gorgeous blue eyes studying him.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," Clarke's lips stretched into an adorable, innocent smile before she rolled away from him and stretched her arms above her head. Bellamy didn't bother trying to hide the fact he was checking out her naked torso, which was on full display given the blankets had fallen down. She rolled her neck and then let out a contented sigh, pushing her blonde hair away from her face as she looked back at him. "Sleep well?"

"Damn well," he replied with a smirk as he leaned in and gave her a brief, close-mouthed kiss before looking over her head and out the window. They hadn't closed the curtains last night, and it looked as though it must be at least nine o'clock, because the sky outside was blue, without a cloud, the sun was shining into the room, bathing everything in a soft, white-gold glow. In fact, it was bouncing off Clarke's hair as though it was creating some sort of halo above her head.

It was fucking gorgeous.

"What time is it?"

"Um," Clarke reached for her bedside table, finding her phone and looking at the screen. "It's almost ten."

"Shit," Bellamy breathed in surprise. "I think that's the latest I've slept in in...Fuck, forever." Clarke raised her eyebrows at him and he let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head. He felt completely rested and almost boneless, totally satisfied. After a moment, the blonde rolled over and pressed a kiss to his chest and his shoulder, soft butterfly kisses that made Bellamy smile like an idiot and wrap his arm around her shoulder, folding her in closer to his side. "So...What do you usually do on Sunday mornings?"

"Well," Clarke thought for a moment. "As you found out the last Sunday that you spent over, Sunday is family day for us. Mum doesn't usually come over here and wake me up though, but around eleven or twelve, I head over to hers and Kane's. Most of the time Wick and Finn and Raven are there, and sometimes some of the other brothers show up—mum makes enough food for all possibilities," she pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. "Although Raven won't be there, she's got a gun show thing out of town that she's been getting wet over for weeks." She tilted her head back to look up at him. "You can come over, if you want?" Bellamy was about to nod when he remembered something.

"Uh, I'm going to need to take a rain check on that one," he said regretfully. "I left work early on Friday to make sure I had time to go home and shower and everything before I came and got you, and I was going to back in yesterday to finish things off but I was kinda freaking out about the party last night, so I just spent the day with Murphy. I really need to get in and finish off work on this car because the owner is coming to pick it up tomorrow."

"Oh," Clarke scrunched up her nose and made a noise at the back of her throat. "That sucks." Bellamy stared down at her for a moment before squeezing her shoulder lightly.

"But if you're not totally sick of me and have some time, I could come and pick you up in the morning? We could go get coffee before work?" He suggested, hoping that he didn't sound like a needy teenage girl. Clarke nodded and grinned, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

"Sounds perfect," she agreed, before rolling out of bed and doing a full body stretch. There were a few red marks on the otherwise flawless skin of her back and hips about the size of his fingers, and that gave him a certain sense of satisfaction. His eyes tracked her as she walked over to her drawers, fumbling through the top drawer. She pulled out a bra and put it on, hooking it behind her back and then got out a thong, looking absolutely tantalizing as she pulled it up her toned legs and over her luscious ass, making Bellamy's mouth water. "You want coffee before you head off?"

"Sounds good," he said as he pushed the blankets off and looked around for his own clothes. Clarke left the room as Bellamy found his briefs. He dressed quickly, straightening out the sheet and blankets on her bed before walking out to join her in the kitchen. She was still only wearing her lingerie, and looking fucking gorgeous as she bent over in front of the fridge to get the milk. Bellamy licked his lip and couldn't help himself from closing the distance and putting his hands on her hips, hugging her close and kissing her neck. "You're fucking gorgeous." Clarke let out a cute giggle and turned around, putting her arms around him, looking up at him.

"You're pretty fucking hot yourself," she replied with a grin. "And if we both didn't have horrible morning breath, I would totally make out with you right now." Bellamy laughed and kissed her forehead before taking the milk away from her and walking to the bench.

"So I'll pick you up at around eight tomorrow? Does that suit? Take you to work afterwards?" Bellamy asked as the coffee machine flicked off and he poured them both mugs.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect," Clarke smiled at him. They drank their coffees in relative quiet, sitting on the couch and watching trashy, early morning TV. After he finished, Bellamy rubbed her feet until the episode of _How I Met Your Mother_ finished, and then said that he should probably get going. He ran his fingers through her hair, touching his thumb gently to the corner of her mouth before giving her a soft kiss.

God, the way her lips felt against his was absolutely incredible...

"I'll text you later, yeah?" He said as he picked up their mugs and went into the kitchen, rinsing them out and tipping them upside down in the sink.

"Sweet as," Clarke called after him. He came back into the room and gave her one last kiss before heading for the door. He actually made it halfway down the front path before he realized that he had no way to come home. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, remembering that it was Murphy who had given them a ride home last night. He turned around to walk back, but the front door was already opening, and Clarke was standing there with a smirk, now with a loose dress thrown on. "I just remembered that we got a ride last night," she said.

"Yup," Bellamy let out a rueful smirk. "Just remembered that as well."

"Let me brush my teeth, and I'll drop you off on the way over to mums," she told him. She disappeared back into the house, reappearing after a few minutes and taking him back to his place. She dropped him off at their place, where they confirmed the time that he would pick her up in the morning and then she drove off.

Clarke was distracted through lunch with her parents, Wick, Wells and Finn, and the boys teased her about going home with Bellamy. Abby repeated a couple of times that she didn't want any discussion about that at the table, and the third time they brought it up, she threatened to kick them out, which quietened them down for a few minutes. But that was until Kane had asked Clarke if she was certain about getting involved with this boy, opening Bellamy back up as a subject of conversation, and Abby had given up.

Clarke didn't mind too much.

She didn't have secrets from any of these people—they were her family.

Hell, they were closer than normal family.

After lunch had finished, Clarke and Abby were doing the dishes while the boys all crowded into the lounge to watch a football game that had been on yesterday, beers in their hands. The older woman had managed to keep her mouth shut for almost a whole three minutes before she teasingly jabbed Clarke in the side with her elbow and said that the pair of them had looked happy together last night.

She had also added that any babies they had together would be bloody good looking.

She didn't get home until just after six, which was normal for a Sunday, although most of the time, Raven came back with her and they would have dinner and a girls night, Raven crashing out on her sofa after they watched a movie and then going home in the morning. Clarke flicked off a text to her best friend, asking her how the gun show had gone, and stepped into the shower. Once she had finished, and was drying herself off, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she noticed the faint marks that had been left behind by Bellamy. They had changed into slight bruises, which she was absolutely fine with.

Clarke liked the idea of him marking her.

She walked back into her bedroom, completely naked as she towel dried her long, blonde hair, and picked up her phone from where it was sitting on top of her drawers. She smiled as she scrolled down to find Bellamy's name.

 _Promise to leave a more permanent mark next time_?

She didn't need to wait long for a reply.

_If you promise to keep me around ;)_

Clarke smirked as she changed into a pair of pyjama shorts and a loose fitting tee-shirt. She closed the curtains in her bedroom before going back into the lounge, sitting down on the couch with the TV remote in one hand and phone in the other.

_God, yes. Guy as good looking as you and who makes funny comments from time to time? I'll keep you around._

There was a few minutes before a reply, and she wondered if he was trying to think of a good way to come back to her retort about him being only funny occasionally. Her phone started ringing and she let out a laugh, swiping her thumb over the screen without even checking the caller ID.

"Aw, can Bellamy not take a joke?" She crooned with a grin.

"Clarke? It's Finn," Finn's voice was flat and the relaxed smile on her face instantly dropped from her face. "Look, uh..." he broke off for a moment and there was some muffled talking behind him and Clarke frowned, trying to make out what was being said. "Look, I'm coming over to get you."

"Why?" Clarke demanded. "What the fuck is going on, Finn?" There was more talking just out of earshot and Clarke was already getting up and walking back to her bedroom to get properly dressed. "Finn?!"

"It's Raven, okay? It's Raven. Something has happened—she's in hospital."


	17. Chapter 17

Bellamy was whistling on his way over to Clarke's the next morning. There was some upbeat, trashy pop song on the radio which he usually hated and would change the channel from, but he didn't mind this morning. He had been texting the feisty blonde last night when he got back from the garage, although she had stopped replying around seven o'clock. He hadn't been bothered though, because they had pretty much spent three days in a row together.

This morning he had showered and ate breakfast, and had been ready by ten past seven. He then spent the next fifty minutes or so, pacing around his apartment, not wanting to show up too early and look like an eager teenager on their first date.

What was even more embarrassing was that this wasn't even their first date!

He arrived outside Clarke's place and parked at the curb outside. He turned off the car and walked up the path to her house. He knocked twice on the door and then put his hands in his pocket, turning his body to look back out over the small garden outside. It wasn't anything fancy, but the lawns were mowed and there was a hedge the cordoned off her property from the outside that was well kept. Bellamy frowned after a minute or so passed and there was no answer and he lifted his hand to knock on the door again. After another few minutes passed, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number.

It went straight to voice mail.

Bellamy pursed his lips together, taking a few steps away from the door and giving the house a once over. It was all closed up, windows all shut and most of the curtains closed. He walked around the side of the house and saw that her car was still parked around the back, indicating that she should be home. He walked around the back of the house, and saw that her bedroom curtains were pulled closed as well, but the curtains for the side wall of the lounge weren't. He looked in, and saw that the place looked as empty inside as it did from the outside. He tried her phone again, but it went straight to voice mail, meaning it was either turned off or out of charge.

He wasn't going to keep standing around the house, looking like a stalker, so he stalked back to his car and got back in. He licked his lips and refused to let out an annoyed groan, instead just clenching his hands into fists before turning the car on. He gave the house one last look before jerking the wheel to the side and accelerating away.

The day didn't get any better from there.

As soon as he showed up at work, the boys re-started the teasing that had happened a few weeks ago when Bellamy had left Octavia's house warming with Clarke. Clearly Murphy had filled them in on what had happened at the club party on Saturday night, including dropping the pair back off at Clarke's place. Lincoln was still the quiet one, diligently doing his work, but unlike the other week, Bellamy had absolutely no patience for the boys light-hearted teasing.

"Aw, did things not go as well as you had planned?" Murphy smirked.

"Lack of conversation starters?" Monty joked.

"Performance issues?" Jasper added. Bellamy sent a glare in their direction but they seemed to think that it was a playful thing, because the jibing continued throughout the day. Lincoln gave him a concerned look when he crushed his coke can violently in his hand, almost turning the aluminium into a tiny ball. Quite a few customers came in, and things got busier as the day went on—Monday was always the busiest day, since they were generally closed in the weekends.

The customers provided some relief from the boys joking, which Bellamy was thankful for, because the other night and Clarke were the last things that he wanted to talk about.

Not to say that he was thinking about them though.

Over and over.

He had thought that things had been all good.

They had a good time, and the morning after had been good. The texting later that night—that had been good. Sure, she had stopped texting, but he wasn't a fifteen year old girl. He wasn't going to be throwing a tantrum over someone not texting him back. Hell, he was pretty terrible at texting people back himself, Octavia was always complaining about it. So he had thought that they were still on for that morning, and everything was absolutely fine.

But she hadn't been there, and she hadn't even given him a heads up.

"You all good, man?" Lincoln asked quietly when the two of them ended up in the tiny break room together just after lunch. Bellamy grunted in reply as he filled one of their chipped mugs with the terrible coffee from the machine. "No. Really. Something's up." Bellamy growled under his breath and couldn't believe that he was about to start whining about some girl.

"Me and Clarke were meant to go out for coffee this morning, and breakfast," he told him quietly, glad that there was no-one else around. "She wasn't at her place when I went to pick her up and she didn't text me to tell me that she was busy or whatever. And I don't get it! Like, is she pissed off at me, or did I do something wrong, or what? What did I do?" Lincoln was watching him with a neutral expression, although there was something in his eyes that Bellamy wasn't okay with. "What's that face for?" He muttered, getting no reply from Lincoln. "What?!"

"Nothing, just..." Lincoln's lips were twitching as though he was trying to stop himself from laughing before he ducked his head, hiding his face. He took in a deep breath, composing himself, before looking back up. "You really like her, don't you?" Bellamy narrowed his eyes, but there was really no point in trying to deny it.

He could pull the wool over Murphy's eyes, and Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, and hell, even his sister.

But he really didn't stand a chance with Lincoln.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Yeah, I do." Lincoln let himself smile fully and Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Although it seems as though I've already blown that."

"Shit, man, seriously?" Lincoln scoffed. "Because of one screwed up breakfast date? Come on. You're not that stupid." Bellamy sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "Look, something must have just come up, and she went to sort it out and just forgot about what happened. I've known Clarke for a while, and if there's one thing I know about her, is that she is as straight up as they come. If she didn't want to go out with you, she would have said no when you asked her. Or if she changed her mind this morning, she would have text you."

"Yeah, well, she didn't," Bellamy knew that he sounded petty. God, he hated it, and he hated that it was a girl he barely knew who was making him sound like this.

"So then something must have happened," Lincoln said reasonably. "I'm sure she'll explain it all when you see her next. Just chill out—and stop being a spazz when it comes to the boys. You know that the more you retaliate, the more they're gonna go for the throat." Bellamy huffed and Lincoln pursed his lips. "And you know, the throat in this situation implying bringing up Clarke as many times as possible."

"Yeah, I got that, thank you," Bellamy replied sarcastically. Lincoln just smirked and and shrugged.

"Just making sure we're on the same page here," Lincoln replied.

"Yeah, yeah, we're there," Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Anyway, as your boss, I'm telling you to stop discussing my personal life and get back to work."

"Oh really? You're telling me to stop discussing your personal life when you're the one here, running to me with a sob story?" Lincoln grinned cheekily at him and then quickly ducked when Bellamy picked up a dirty wash cloth and threw it at his head. He was still laughing as he left the room and headed back into the main garage, where the other three men were still working.

Bellamy felt better after talking to Lincoln.

Just like when they had been back in the army, Lincoln was a voice of reason. He was as steady as they come. And everything that he had said made total sense. He hadn't known Clarke for very long, but from what he had seen so far, and everything he had heard from his friends and sister, said that she was upright.

Even though he was feeling better, though, didn't mean he wasn't about ready to put his hands around Murphy, Jasper or Monty's neck and wring them as hard as he could.

Around three o'clock, a familiar car pulled up outside, although not the one that Bellamy had been hoping to see. Octavia got out of the car and stalked up to the house, and when Bellamy and Lincoln saw her face, both of them exchanged worried looks and walked out to meet her.

"O? What's going on?" Bellamy asked when they reached her. Octavia glanced over at Lincoln before licking her lips and looking back toward her brother.

"It's about Clarke," she said and Bellamy's eyes widened at her grim tone. "No, no, she's fine. She's okay," Octavia quickly reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm before running her fingers through her hair. "Um, her phone is dead, which is why she didn't text you."

"So what is it?" Bellamy all but snapped.

"Finn text me," Octavia stated. "Him and Clarke...They're at the hospital."

"Why?" Lincoln asked softly, not looking as panicked as Bellamy but still worried as he took Octavia's hand and rubbed his thumb against the back.

"It's Raven," she finally told them. "She was in a car crash. It's pretty bad, and that's where Clarke is now. Finn said that she would be home later, so if you wanted to get in contact with her, just wait a few hours. She'll be back soon."


	18. Chapter 18

Bellamy could barely concentrate when he was driving home that night. Twice he slowed down, and started indicating as though he was going to pull over and turn the car around, and head in the direction of Clarke's house. But he kept driving straight, checking his phone at two minute intervals, even though it was right next to him and he knew that he would be able to hear it if it went off. When he got home, he was pacing around his apartment, filled with pent up energy.

He stopped pacing in his kitchen, putting his hands down flat on the counter top and letting out a groan.

He should go over there.

"No," he hissed to himself through clenched teeth. No, he shouldn't go over there. Who was he? Him and Clarke had gone out on a couple of dates—barely known each other for more than a few weeks. She was in an emotionally difficult situation here, with one of her best friends in the hospital and injured. She would want to have her friends and family around her right now, not him.

And if she wanted to talk to him, she would text him or call him—she had his number.

Part of him argued that Octavia had said that Clarke's phone was dead, so if she was still at the hospital, then she wouldn't be able to get in contact with him even if she wanted to.

In the end, he walked into his bedroom and changed into a singlet, old hoodie and a pair of Adidas shorts. If he stayed inside the house then he was just doing to go stir crazy and start punching things, so it was in his best interests to get out of there. He filled a water bottle and then laced up shoes before leaving his apartment, taking the stairs down to the bottom floor and then setting off at a run.

* * *

Octavia had told Murphy exactly the same thing that she had told Bellamy, because he had caught her on the way back to her car, overhearing Clarke's name in the conversation she had had with her brother and boyfriend. The youngest Blake knew that Murphy and Clarke were close, and so she had no problem with telling him what she had found out. He was meant to be meeting up with Emori, go out for dinner, but he had called her and said that he needed to go and check on Clarke, so he would be running late. Emori had sounded concerned—she liked Clarke—and said to take as long as he needed to, to send her a text if he thought he wasn't going to make it and they could reschedule for another night.

This was definitely something he loved about Emori.

A lot of girls would get jealous that another girl was getting in the way of their date night. But she was completely understanding of it.

He pulled up outside Clarke's place just after seven and got out of his car, picking up his jacket from where it was on the passenger seat and pulling it on, tugging up the collar around his neck to protect him against the cold, night wind. He jogged up to her door, tapping his knuckles against the wood and then not bothering waiting for a reply, putting his hand on the doorknob and turning it...

...And was then promptly thrown to the side, a hand to his throat as he was slammed against the wall.

"Shit!" Murphy choked out, all of his training telling him to fight back and jab the other man in the throat. He restrained himself, because getting into a full blown fist fight was not the best way to resolve this situation. There was a time when he would have acted first and regretted later, but he wasn't that angry, young man that he was when he had first left the army, and Clarke was one of the people to thank for that. Clarke and Bellamy. "Shit, man, what's your problem?!" He blinked and pushed back at Finn, who was glaring at him.

"Finn! Finn—what the fuck are you doing?!" Clarke came out of the house, here eyes wide as she looked between the two of them. She smacked Finn in the arm until he released Murphy, letting his feet sink back down to land firmly on the ground. Clarke turned her fierce gaze to Murphy, her eyes quickly softening and shaking her head. "Sorry, Murphy," she sighed. "Everyone's a little on edge."

"Yeah..." he narrowed his eyes at Finn, purposefully taking a step forward while straightened to his full height, forcing Finn to step backwards. "Yeah, alright. Wanna tell me why everyone's on edge?" Finn looked like he was going to argue but Clarke just shot him another angry look before gripping Murphy's hand.

"Come inside," she told him, leading him inside, Finn close behind them, shutting the front door and flicking over the lock. Murphy followed Clarke into the lounge and kicked off his shoes before he sat down on the arm chair. Finn remained standing at the door, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes ever moving around the room.

"What's with the guard dog?" Murphy began, nodding over to Finn. "I'm assuming that it has something to do with Raven, but I thought that it was just a car crash? Which is totally shit, I get that, but it doesn't warrant being thrown up against the wall when you innocently stop by to see you friend." He tossed another angry look in Finn's direction, who was most definitely _not_ forgiven at this point, but the other man just shrugged, looking unapologetic. Clarke pursed her lips as she folded her feet up underneath her and picked up one of the pillows, hugging it to her chest.

"Okay, well," she scrunched up her nose and took in a deep breath. "Okay, well, a few weeks ago, there was some..." she tilted her head to the side as she thought about a diplomatic way to continue. "There was some trouble with some _Phantoms_ business and an opposing gang." Finn cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look but she ignored him and continued. "Finn and Wells were beaten up."

"Shit," he lifted his eyebrows as he looked over at Finn, who's expression was stony. "Well, that's pretty much declaring war, right?" He turned back at Clarke. "I mean, I'm still learning all of this stuff, but from what I understand, it definitely isn't anything good. Was it on _Phantoms_ territory?"

"Yup," Clarke nodded.

"Do you guys know who it was?"

"We're looking into it," Finn said shortly, clearly not wanting the conversation to go too far, given it was _Phantoms_ business and even though Murphy was friends with some of them, it didn't mean he had the right to be privy to what was going on in the club. Murphy nodded slowly and then looked back to Clarke, his eyebrows lifting when he saw the way her eyes were shining, as though she was on the verge of tears.

"Shit, Clarke, you okay?" Murphy's voice was low as he moved forward in his seat so that he could reach out and put his hand to touch her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just..." Clarke took in a shaky breath and she worried her lower lip with her teeth. "Okay, so there was _that_ trouble a couple of weeks ago—with Finn and Wells. And then with this gun show that Raven wanted to go to, it was out of town. Wick was kind of worried and didn't want her to go, but we just thought he was being over protective, and so she just went by herself," her voice quivered a little and Murphy tightened his grip on her knee. "The crash on the way back...It wasn't just a normal car crash. Someone ran her off the road, and then..." the tears were still welling and threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Then they dragged her out of the car and b-beat her up."

"What?!" Murphy's eyebrows flew upward. "What the fuck—who the fuck would do that?"

"We're thinking it's the same people," Finn grunted. "The same MC." Murphy glanced across at him and then back at Clarke.

"It's one thing beating up a club member," Murphy's voice was taunt with anger. "But it's a whole other thing beating up a _woman_."

"She's an old lady," Finn stated. "It carries the same weight behind it as beating up one of the club brothers—but, well, it's worse, really. I mean, you're laying your hands on someone's woman. That's never going to end well." Clarke was taking in shaky breaths, trying to calm herself down. Finn hesitated, but then he abandoned his post at the doorway, coming over to sit down on the couch beside the blonde and put his arm around her. Despite how rough Finn was at times, he clearly cared about Clarke, and she could see that right through his tough exterior, because she let her body curve into his. He kissed her forehead and Murphy directed his next question toward him, rather than her.

"So what's happening with Raven now? Is she okay? Is she safe?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded his head once. "We've got her in a private room, and there's one of the brothers posted there at all times."

"Raven can't like the fact she has a babysitter," Murphy joked, trying to lighten the situation.

"It's not like she's got a choice in the matter," Clarke mumbled. "She's in a coma."

"Oh, fuck," Murphy leaned back in the seat he was in and rubbed a hand over his face and through his floppy hair. "That's bad..."

"But the doctors think that she's going to be fine," Clarke continued, trying to keep her voice optimistic. Behind her, Finn's face did not look as positive as hers and Murphy wondered what it was exactly that the doctors had said. "They said that she's in a serious but stable condition."

"That sounds...Good?" Murphy wasn't too sure what doctor lingo meant, but 'stable' sounded like a good start.

"It does, right?" Clarke looked over at him and Murphy forced a smile. "God, I just need her to be okay. And Wick needs her to be okay. I have no idea what we're going to do if something happens to her—well, something worse," she scratched the side of her neck and let out a breath.

"She's going to be okay," Finn said, sounding a whole lot more certain than he looked, so it was good that Clarke's head was tilted down and she couldn't see his expression. "Raven is one of the strongest chicks around, remember? God, she's stronger than half the men around. And she's going to get through this." Murphy was pretty sure that was the most he had ever heard Finn speak, although he shouldn't be surprised that it was Clarke that prompted it. Murphy leaned forward again, picking up one of Clarke's hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"And we've all got her back—hers and yours, okay? Me, Finn, your parents, Wick, Lincoln, Vee and Bellamy," he reminded her, and Clarke gave him a watery but grateful smile.


	19. Chapter 19

When Bellamy had got home from his run, he had considered again texting or calling Clarke, but had then decided, again, that he should leave it. He showered and made himself a chicken salad for dinner, sitting down in front of the TV to watch the latest episode of Supernatural. Afterwards, he went to bed, putting his phone on the charge and setting it down on the bedside table. Sometime around midnight, his phone vibrated twice, and if he wasn't such a light sleeper, it wouldn't have bothered him. But he woke up and rolled over, checking his phone to find out who was texting him this late.

When Clarke's name lit up on screen, he was suddenly wide awake.

_I'm sorry I bailed this morning, something came up. I can explain everything if you wanted to come over for breakfast tomorrow? I can cook?_

Bellamy was grinning like an idiot as he tapped out a reply.

_It's a date. I'll be there at eight._

It wasn't until he had sent the message that he realized it rhymed and he kind of sounded like an idiot. But when the reply came back, a smiley face from her, he didn't care what he sounded like. He was completely wide awake, staring at the ceiling, for hours to come.

* * *

Bellamy arrived outside Clarke's house just before eight, not wanting to take any chances. He licked his lips nervously on the way up, noting that there was a motorbike parked around the side, next to her car and he wondered which one of the brothers was here. They must have gotten to her place really early. He knocked on the door and waited for her to come to the door.

Except it wasn't Clarke.

It was a very grumpy looking Finn.

"What are you doing here?" He grouched, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He looked disheveled and completely different from the other time Bellamy had seen him, only wearing a pair of sweatpants. Seeing him like that also told Bellamy that he had been there for the night, and it wasn't an early morning visit, which made his stomach twist a little uncomfortably.

"Uh, I'm here to see Clarke?" Bellamy replied, sounding a little hesitant. "She text me last night." Finn was still glaring at him, and Bellamy had to force himself to stand his ground and not relent under his angry gaze. "Is she here?"

"Yeah, I'm here!" Came a call from behind Finn and the blue eyed blonde appeared in the hallway, walking toward the door. Bellamy had to admit that he was quite relieved to see that she was fully dressed, wearing leggings and a jersey. "Hey," she ducked around Finn, clearly unperturbed by his standoffish stance, and reached forward to give Bellamy a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you came—I thought maybe my text last night would be a little late notice for you."

"No, no, it's completely fine," Bellamy assured her, stepping into the house. Finn followed them, Bellamy able to feel his angry gaze on his back as they walked into the lounge. To his relief, he could see a crumpled up blanket on the couch and the rest of Finn's clothes there, so at least he knew they hadn't been sleeping in the same bed.

Not that he had any right to dictate who Clarke was sleeping with.

It wasn't as though they were exclusive.

Or anything.

They had just gone out a couple of times.

Bellamy cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Finn, you can head out now," Clarke began, glancing over at Finn, who was pulling on his shirt. Finn looked surprised and then furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't think that's a good—"

"Finn," Clarke's voice was sharper this time. "I'll be fine." Finn was still staring at her, and Bellamy frowned, realizing that there was something else going on here. Finn wasn't even looking at him, it didn't look as though his hesitance at leaving had anything to do with him, although Bellamy had thought it did. The blonde walked over to Finn, lacing her fingers together with his and giving them a squeeze. "Bellamy is going to be with me, and if he needs to go, I will call you or Wells, okay?"

Bellamy was so confused right now.

Finn turned his narrow eyes toward Bellamy, a warning in them, before he picked up his jacket and _Phantoms_ vest, along with a gun that was on the couch, and then left them alone. Bellamy looked back at Clarke, who had her arms wrapped around him and was regarding him with an apologetic look.

"What's going on, Clarke?" Bellamy asked quietly, feeling a nervous twist in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what was going on, but from the way Clarke was worrying her lower lip, and the tetchy way Finn had been acting, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear.

"It's about Raven," Clarke started, sitting down on the edge of the couch, her arms still tight around her torso.

"Vee told me that she was in a car accident," Bellamy admitted as he sat down on the couch near her, but not too close that he was crowding her personal space.

"Yeah, well, that's what the public knows, and I haven't spoken to Octavia in person yet to explain," Clarke licked her lips.

"What do you mean, 'that's what the public knows'?" Bellamy questioned, frowning. She took in a deep, shaky breath and pursed her lips. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking toward the TV, which was turned off, and the photos and paintings on the wall behind it. "Clarke, I'm not going to tell anyone. I know that there's a code, rules in the club—but I don't want to know because I'm interested in the _Phantoms_. I want to know because I care about you, and I want to help you," he shuffled a little closer on the couch, reaching out and holding her hand.

"Someone followed her," Clarke told him the same thing that she had told Murphy just the night before. Bellamy's eyes were wide in horror, and he squeezed her hand hard to show his support. "That's why Finn was here. Dad doesn't want me, or mum, or any of the other woman alone. Raven has someone with her at all times, and we've paid for her to be in a private room, in the far wing of the hospital."

"What about the cops? Didn't the doctors ring the cops?" Bellamy asked. "Surely they have to call the cops—it's sort of like a gun shot wound, right? I mean, if they can blatantly tell someone has been attacked then they have to notify the authorities?"

"Well, we have...Some pull when it comes to the authorities in town," Clarke admitted with a shrug. "Dad told them to put it down as a car accident, so that's what they did, and then there was no reason to call the cops. They've already towed her car back to and covered anything up to say otherwise. This is going to dealt with us, not the cops." Bellamy pursed his lips together, so firmly that they drained of colour, scratching at the back of his neck as he considered the situation. Quiet fell between them and Clarke glanced up at him. "He's not going to get away with it. We'll make sure of it."

"Oh, yeah, I don't doubt that for a second," Bellamy let out a breath. Clarke's eyebrows pulled together and he saw a flash of something in her eyes. It might have been annoyance, and he realized that he should have kept his mouth shut—that she took his off-handed comment as judgement when that's the last thing he wanted her to think right now. Clarke let out a sigh and stood up, running her fingers through her long, wavy hair and tossing it over her shoulder.

"Look, I get we don't see totally eye to eye on the way that my family deals with this, but I don't need this," she told him, a twinge of pain in her voice. "I thought that—"

"No, no, I'm here for you, okay?" Bellamy quickly said, getting up and closing the distance between them, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "I'm not judging or anything I'm just..." he blinked and let out a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm just processing it all."

This really wasn't the way he had imagined this morning going.

"How can I help? What can I do?" He asked her quietly, relaxing his body as he locked his eyes on hers. Clarke looked surprised at his words but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Do you think you could stay with me for the day?" She asked softly. "Dad trusts you—he was fine with Finn leaving if you were staying here with me."

"Oh really?" Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her. "You just assumed that I would stay here with you?"

"Maybe," Clarke's smile grew a little and Bellamy couldn't help but grin back at her.

"So you want me to make breakfast?" He asked. "I'm not a bad cook."

"Yeah, that sounds kind of perfect, actually," she nodded. "I'm gonna go have a shower, I'll be back soon." She pulled away from his grip and walked out of the room. Bellamy watched her go, part of him wanting to follow after her and use different methods to get her mind off the problems she was going through at the moment, but he shook his head, clearing his dirty thoughts.

There would be time for that later—at a more appropriate time.

He heard the shower turn on as he walked into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. It was well stocked, and he pulled out all the ingredients he would need for scrambled eggs. It was simple and easy, but it was comfort food. He cooked them up quickly, and was surprised when he turned around and Clarke was back in the kitchen, wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, her hair plaited and laying over one shoulder.

"Shit," he raised an eyebrow at her. "You shower fast."

"We're not all like Octavia—spending half a day in there," Clarke gave him a small smile, her pretty face flushed red still from the warmth of the shower. His heart squeezed a little at how fresh-faced and vulnerable she looked, standing in front of him, her feet bare on the wooden floor.

"Well, breakfast is almost done," Bellamy said as he turned back to the frying pan. He wasn't sure what he thought she was going to do when she padded into the kitchen, but when she wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her head against back, his whole body tensed up. She linked her fingers together in front of him, and he could feel her matching her breathing to his, and he relaxed under her touch.

He managed to keep his movements to a minimum as he dished up the scrambled eggs over the toast on the two plates, and when he had to move, she shuffled with him.

He kind of loved it.

He really didn't want to tell her when it was all finished and ready to be eaten, but he didn't want the food to go cold.

"All done," he murmured, turning around in her grip so that he was facing her. She nodded and looked up at him, a small smile on her face. He wasn't too sure if it was too presumptuous of him, but he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Clarke's arms tightened around him and kissed him back. It was soft and closed mouthed, and nothing like the hot, passionate kiss from the night when they were falling over each other to get into bed. It was filled with something so much sweeter, and when they pulled apart, Clarke just leaned back against him, hugging him tight.


	20. Chapter 20

Bellamy called Lincoln and let him know that he wasn't going to come in today. Lincoln sounded a little confused but didn't question him, saying that it was no problem, they could deal with the work load. The rest of the day was spent in Clarke's lounge, watching TV and eating whatever she had in her cupboards. He really wasn't the kind of person who could spend full days inside and not get out and about—even in the weekends, if he didn't have any plans, he would go out for a run and go to the gym, not able to stay still long enough.

But the day went by quickly with Clarke, making their way through the TV shows she had recorded over the past few weeks. He had been a little nervous at first, wondering if he was going to end up watching chick flicks all day, but he actually really enjoyed the first show that they watched called _New Girl,_ and then got completely absorbed in _Parks and Recreation_. Clarke couldn't believe that he hadn't watched either of them before, and he told her that he was going to make a point of looking for them now.

It was almost six when there was a knock at the door, and Bellamy's alerts all went on high alert, remembering exactly why he was here and what Finn was trusting him with. He had told Clarke to stay on the couch, and she hadn't looked very happy about it, but hadn't argued. He went to the door and looked through the peep-hole before answering. Wells gave him a part smile and then walked in, a plastic bag full of steaming food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

Officially there to take over her protection detail, it appeared.

Before leaving, Clarke gave Bellamy another kiss. He put his hand on her cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her skin and giving her a soft smile.

The next morning, Bellamy rang Lincoln again.

"Everything good, man?" His best friend asked as Bellamy said that he was going to be late coming into work that day. "You never told me why you didn't come in yesterday." Bellamy sighed as he locked up his apartment and walked down the stairs.

"I was with Clarke," he told him.

"Oh really?" Lincoln asked, not offering anything more to prompt him along. Bellamy sighed and played with his car keys in the hand that wasn't holding his phone.

"Yeah, uh...She text me and asked me to come over. So I went over and it turns out they've got some kind of bodyguard thing going on—the lot of them seem pretty freaked out after what happened to Raven," Bellamy informed him. He realized that it must sound weird, to say that they were nervous because of a simple car crash, but when Lincoln just made a small grunt on the other end of the line, it seemed as though he knew there was more to the story. "Did Clarke talk to Vee about it?"

"Nah, but Murphy went and saw Clarke the other day, and he told me and Vee yesterday. I sort of figured that's where you were," he replied. "Are you going there now?"

"It's kind of to do with that, but no. I'm not going over to her place," Bellamy answered. "But I'll be there in maybe an hour?"

"Roger that," Lincoln said. "See you soon, boss." Bellamy still wasn't one hundred percent certain that what he was doing was the right thing to do, but it had definitely felt right when the thought had come to him last night. He had told himself that he would wait until morning, and if he still thought that it was a good idea, he would go through with it. When he woke up, the idea seemed a whole lot less like a good plan, but for some reason, he was still going through with it. He got to his car and slid inside, pulling on his seat belt and turning on his engine. It only took him about twenty minutes to get to his destination and he felt his body tighten in worry as he stepped out of his vehicle. He walked up to the front door and rapped his knuckles.

"Bellamy?" Abby tilted her head to the side and gave him a confused but warm smile. "What is it I can do for you?"

"Uh, is Kane here?" He asked.

"Um," Abby pursed her lips together, the smile dropping as she glanced over her shoulder and looked back into the house. "I'm really not too sure if now is a good time," she dropped her voice. "We've got quite a bit going on right now." It was then that Bellamy saw the droop in her eyes and how tired she looked despite the make up and facade that she was putting on.

"I know about Raven," Bellamy said, letting his voice quiet to match hers. "I was with Clarke yesterday." Abby looked surprised for a moment but then gave a one shouldered shrug.

"Okay, sweetie," she stepped aside. "Come on in." Bellamy toed off his shoes and followed her inside. He followed her lead, surprised when they bypassed the lounge and kitchen and headed down the hallway toward the back of the house. He had only come as far as the bathroom last time, but she lead him right down to the end of the hall and opened the door. "Marcus? Sweetie? I've got Bellamy here to see you." There was a grunt from inside and Abby gave him a smile, ushering him inside.

It was definitely clear why Kane wasn't in the lounge carrying out his activities.

Because what he had going on here kind of looked like something that could be seen in some kind of stalker or serial killer movie. On two of the walls of the room were photos of people, what looked like mugshots, and of bikes and what looked like a map of the city, with red vivid scrawled over them and scraps of paper with illegible writing.

"Oo-kay," Bellamy widened his eyes and tried not to be too worried about the situation he had found himself in.

"What are you doing here, Blake?" Kane asked gruffly. Bellamy took in a deep breath, trying not to get too freaked out by the vibe that was coming off the room.

"Look, I was with Clarke yesterday," he began. "And I know that what happened to Raven wasn't an accident."

"I know," Kane nodded. "Finn rang me as soon as he left her place, making sure that I was okay with you being the one to stay and look after her." Bellamy wasn't too sure how Clarke would take to the term 'looking after her' being used, but he ignored it. In fact, he couldn't help but feel a bit pleased that Kane had been happy for him to look after the girl he treated like a daughter.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to ask if there was anything I can do to help," Bellamy said. Kane looked surprised at the offer and he tilted his head to the side. "I know that you've got all your men, and you've got all of... _This_ going on," he waved his hand around the room, pointing to the bizarre mind map in the room. "But if there's something you can't figure out or—if you need anything else, then I just wanted you to know that I'm here." Kane frowned, spinning around in his chair and steepling his fingers in front of him.

"You said that you repaid your debt when you helped us find Jake's killer," he said quietly. "You said that you were done with this club. That you didn't want anything to do with this life."

"I don't, per se," Bellamy sighed, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. "I don't want to be a part of your club, but I want to help Clarke, and that means helping you." Kane still didn't look convinced, pursing his lips and letting out his breath through his nose. "Okay, look, I'm not here because I want to make any trouble. Maybe it was a bad idea coming. I just wanted you to know that I'm not totally useless, and I've got two boys who work for me who have some bad hacking skills, and I'm sure they would be happy to help as well."

"The ones who looked into Clarke's juvie record?" Kane asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, that was one of them," Bellamy looked a little abashed by that.

"I'm going to repeat what I said before; I thought you wanted nothing to do with any of this—with any of us," Kane told him, his voice firm. "What's changed here?" Bellamy swallowed hard and sighed.

"Clarke, I guess," he answered honestly. Kane stared at him for a long moment before letting out a rough laugh.

"Well, at least you're not lying to anyone," he said. After a few more moments he nodded. "Okay. I appreciate the offer. And I'll let you know if there's anything that we need." Bellamy nodded and gave him a quick smile before ducking out of the room and heading back toward his car, saying goodbye to Abby on his way past the lounge.

* * *

Finn had cancelled all of her appointments at the tattoo parlor the day before, and then Clarke had called around and cancelled all of the ones for that day as well. She didn't like being unreliable with her clients, but she made sure to reschedule them all. Abby had called her that morning and asked if she was staying at home again, but she had said that she couldn't stand the idea of being stuck in her house for a whole other day. So her and Finn went to her shop, and he stayed out the front, halfheartedly watching a TV show on her lap top while he watched the front door, and she was in the back room.

She had Troye Sivan playing through her iPod speakers, and was sketching out a design that she was meant to be doing for a client tomorrow. Her whole head was a mess, and she couldn't make sense of anything right now, which is why she needed to be at her shop, with her sketching pad.

One of her best friends was in hospital, in a medically induced coma, and the reason for that was because someone was after the _Phantoms_ —her family. And clearly they weren't just after the members themselves, because Raven was an old lady. She didn't carry out any of the _Phantoms_ business, other than running the gun range. She wasn't a threat to any other clubs.

It didn't make sense.

Clarke blinked away the tears that she didn't realize had flooded her eyes and tried to re-focus on her drawing.


	21. Chapter 21

It had now been over a week since Raven was attacked. The swelling in her brain was still bad enough that the doctors said she should remain in the medically induced coma. Bringing her out could cause hemorrhaging, risk of memory loss and there would be the possibility of a stroke, so it was the best thing for her to stay in the coma. The Phantoms were still trying to figure out who had attacked her, and all they knew so far was that it was linked to the people who had attacked Finn and Wells when they were on a run.

Kane and Theo were working with Sinclair day and night, going through any security footage and witness statements that they could find to try and find out who had gone after their people. They had already determined that there were no leads when it came to Finn and Wells. It had been the middle of the night, and while their attackers had been picked up on one camera, they were wearing black hoodies with no discernible patches or marks, and their faces were covered. With Raven, she had gone through two traffic light stops with security cameras, and they were trying to catch a glimpse of anyone following her that they recognized.

It had to be another crew.

They knew that.

Any normal street gang or thug knew not to go up against a MC. They were organized and they had allies that spanned across the countryside, and it was practically suicide to pick a war with them.

When a MC went up against another one, it was because they wanted to take over their territory. A club as big as the Phantoms couldn't just simply be taken over in one swoop though, it needed to be done slowly and methodically, and they needed to undermine them with any of their connections, prove that they weren't a good ally. One of the ways to do this was by fucking up their money drops and gun running business.

But that was where Raven didn't fit in.

Clarke's mind was going through every different scenario that she could, trying to find ways where the two didn't fit together. They had no reason to be going after her. Other than inciting sympathy from other clubs and making the Phantoms angrier, not too much was to be gained from going after an old lady. In fact, it was a sign of weakness on the part of the other club, going after a woman. They didn't really have much of a moral code, but that was definitely something that was frowned on.

Don't touch the woman or children.

Wick was going crazy. He had barely slept more than a few hours a night for the past week and a half, and when he wasn't throwing himself almost manically into trying to find out who had done this to his brothers and his old lady, he was drinking. A lot.

Clarke and Abby had taken over the role of cleaning his and Ravens place and making sure he was still eating properly. Finn was spending a lot of his time at Clarke's still, which was getting a little frustrating but she didn't argue with him, because she knew that he was here on orders from Kane, and it would be like fighting with a brick wall. They were just trying to keep her safe. Bellamy had come over a few times after work, but he was busy, and while he offered to take more time off to spend with her, she said that she was fine.

It was a lie, and she knew that he knew it, but he respected her enough to call her on it, giving her some distance.

The truth was, she didn't want Bellamy to feel as though he had to be there for her. They weren't even really dating at this point, they were just sort of hanging out, and they had slept together once. It was far to early in any kind of relationship for him to think that she needs him to look after her. And she also hated that she might come off as looking weak.

Because Clarke Griffin was _not_ weak.

It was almost a full two weeks later, the Friday, when the DNA results came back. It had taken a little bit longer to get the results in because all the tests had been run by Sinclair with the police lab, but they were under another persons name, so as not to draw attention. There had been blood in Ravens teeth and under her fingernails when she had gone into the hospital, and while a lot of it had been hers, when Sinclair had sent it off to the lab, they had identified some of it as a different blood type to hers.

And now they were about to get the result of who it matched against.

"How long before we know who it is?" Clarke asked, her fingers digging into the knee of her jeans.

"Wells only just left to get them, baby," Abby said, trying to soothe her daughter but clearly just as anxious as she was. Everyone in the room was on edge.

"Seriously, why could this not be done over the phone? This is the twenty-first friggin' century. We have phones," Clarke grunted, unable to sit still any longer, getting up from the couch and starting to pace the room. Kane was sitting in his arm chair, completely silent, arms crossed over his chest as he glared straight ahead. No one answered Clarke, because the answer was simple.

They wanted to see the hard proof, the actual evidence.

And Sinclair had told him that they needed to get over there right away, and he was still at the station. It would be just a little bit too conspicuous, Kane or Theo showing up and meeting with one of the officers, so they had sent Wells, with a hoodie pulled up high and sunglasses on. Wick had wanted to be the one who went down and got the results, but he was a mess. He smelt like cigarettes and bourbon, and his hair was oily and falling over his face, and he didn't look as though he had changed his clothes in about a week. Right now, he was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes. Usually Abby would get furious with anyone smoking in her house, but she was letting this one go.

This was an exception to the rules.

The uncomfortable silence reigned for almost a full twenty minutes, a smoky haze filling the room until there was a roar of an engine outside, and practically everyone lurched forward in their seats. Wells threw open the front door and then he was standing in front of them, a crumpled up piece of paper in his hands.

"You couldn't even keep it fucking flat?" Kane growled as he stormed over and snatched the paper his hands, glaring down at it. "Did you look at it?" He snapped at Wells, who just jerked his head in a nod. Kane looked down at the paper, and the room was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop. Kane finished looking at the information, his fingers were grasped tight and threatening to tear the paper as Wick rushed over and snatched it from him. Usually, Theo would be the second to look at it, given he was the Vice President, but he let this one go, given the circumstances at play.

"It's Cage behind this," Wick breathed out, his voice stuttering.

"Cage?" Clarke's eyebrows lifted. "Cage Wallace?!" Abby sent her a look and she pressed her pink lips together in a glossed line, waiting until everyone in the room had a chance to look at the piece of paper, finally getting her hands on it at the same time as her mother.

"Carl Emerson," Abby muttered, reading out the result and letting out a sigh through her nose as she looked over at her husband. "He's one of Cage's men." She swallowed hard as she watched the men in her lounge. They were all dangerously quiet, hands clenched at their sides and nostrils flaring angrily, the blood drained from their faces. Clarke looked towards Wick, who was breathing so heavily that his shoulders were lifting.

"Wick," Clarke began warningly, stepping towards him, just as he seemed to literally explode. He let out an inhuman roar as he punched out both of his arms, sending the lamp that was sitting on the table beside him flying toward the wall, ripping the cord out of the wall. Finn and Wells jumped into action, trying to get him under control, but it wasn't until he had sent the coffee table flipping over and put his fist through the wall that they managed to get him to stop.

"Brother! You need to get yourself under control!" Wells was saying loudly, trying to get through to Wick.

"Come on, man!" Finn had his arms locked behind his back, limiting the damage inflicted to Kane and Abby's lounge. "Look, at least we know who it is! Now we can figure out a plan to get on top of this—"

"Get on top of this?!" Wick shouted out, his voice strangled. "I'm going to fucking kill them all!" Clarke felt her stomach squeeze in sympathy for her friend and she dropped her head, staring down at the ground. Up until this point, she had been trying to think as these two things as separate incidents, even though they all knew that they were connected. She knew that they weren't, it was too coincidental, but she had been trying to tell herself that it was.

Maybe someone got road rage.

Raven could get pretty aggressive when she was driving.

Verging on psycho at times.

But no; it was very clear that these two were linked.

And now they had target.

"There's a way to do things," Kane began quietly. "And going in there guns blazing is _not_ the way." Wick let out another growl, his eyes whipping from side to side furiously, still struggling against Wells and Finn. Theo looked over at Abby, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"I think it's best if you two leave for now," he said softly, glancing between her and Clarke. Abby nodded, walking over to her husband and giving him a kiss on the mouth. Kane's arms went around her tightly, making the kiss harder and more passionate that originally intended, but he was clearly trying to calm himself down. When they pulled apart, Abby took Clarke's hand and lead her out of the lounge.

"I'm going to stay with Lisa," she said, meaning Lisa Jaha, Theo's wife and Wells mother. "Do you have somewhere you can go. They need to be alone right now."

"And by go, you mean somewhere safe, right?" Clarke sighed and then nodded. "I'll ring Bellamy."

"Good, that's good," Abby nodded and took in a breath through her nose. "Kane trusts him." Clarke smiled and then leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek. "I'll call you if I hear anything, okay, sweetie?"

"Okay, mum. I love you," Clarke said before turning on her heel and walking out of the house and toward her car. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Bellamy's number. It rang three times and she thought that maybe he wasn't going to pick up, but then it clicked and the phone call was answered. "Bellamy?"

"Hey, Clarke. What's up?"

"Um," just the sound of his voice made tears flood to the corners of her eyes, and as much as she hated herself for sounding like this, the next few words just spilled out. "I need your help, Bellamy."


	22. Chapter 22

Bellamy arrived at Clarke's place just moments after she got into the driveway. He had left work as soon as she had called him, sensing the urgency in her voice. When he walked in the front door, not bothering with knocking, Clarke was on him in seconds. There was something about the way that she was kissing him that told him that this wasn't just a booty call, because he could feel that her cheeks were damp from tears. He let her control the kiss for several minutes, their tongues twining together as she pushed his backwards against the door and his hands gripped her hips, holding her tightly against him. But then he pulled back and looked down at her properly, searching her eyes.

"What's going on, Clarke?" He asked her, his voice laced with concerned and lust, not sure which emotion was stronger right now.

"Not right now," she murmured, trying to reach back in for a kiss but he held her firmly in place. "It's about Raven, I just..." she let out a frustrated noise, her hands gripping at his shirt, curling them into fists and scrunching up the material. Bellamy looked at her for a moment longer, seeing the desperation in her bright blue eyes, brimming with tears, and he relented, leaning forward and pushing their lips together.

The kiss was harsh and wanting and bruising, and Bellamy took over, lowering his hands to her ass and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine as she twined her arms around his neck, trying to get herself as close as humanly possibly to him. Bellamy carried her down the hallway, not bothering to try and make it to the bedroom but opting for the lounge and stumbling in. He would usually have absolutely no problem with carrying her, but his legs were beginning to feel weak with the way that she was rolling her hips against his growing erection and using her teeth on his lower lip. They fell down on the couch, Clarke straddling his lap, hands on either side of his face as they continued to kiss. She laced her fingers through his curly hair, tugging at the strands and letting out a gasp from the back of her throat as Bellamy's mouth left her own and started making it's way down her neck.

He wasn't gentle as he bit and licked his way down the pillar of ivory skin, leaving red, angry marks in his wake. He got to her collarbone and sucked hard—sending stabs of heat to the center of her legs and a rush of wetness. It was exactly what she needed, dragging her mind away from the mess that her life had turned into right now.

"Fuck, Clarke," Bellamy grunted as he grabbed the edge of her shirt and ripped it over her head, tossing it behind them before wrapping his arms back around her. Her skin was warm under his hands, and he palmed the smoothness of her back, finding her bra strap and flicking it open, the material falling forward loosely. Bellamy pressed one last chaste kiss to her mouth before he pulled away her bra and then dropped his mouth to her chest. Clarke let out a whimper as he swiped his tongue over one of her nipples. He didn't spend too much time there, leaving little bites over her breasts and squeezing hard at her ass through her denim shorts.

"You need to take your fucking clothes off," Clarke growled, clambering off his lap and undoing the buttons of her own shorts. Bellamy quickly rid himself of his clothes, not allowing her time to climb back onto his lap, instead, pushing her onto her back and shoving her legs backwards so that her thighs were pressed against her torso. She let out a whimper as she was completely exposed to him as he parted her legs. He held them apart roughly, knowing that there were going to be bruises in the shape of his fingers against her skin the next day.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Bellamy breathed and there was pretty, full bloody flush that spread over Clarke's body. He dipped a finger between her lower lips, teasing her for a split second before pressing two fingers inside of her without any warning.

"Fuck!" Clarke cried out, her back bowing off the couch, her stomach muscles contracting with pleasure as his thumb pressed hard against her clit. He was relentless, pumping his fingers into her, feeling her arousal drip down his palm and toward his wrist, also dampening the couch material below her. He felt her come but he didn't stop, his other hand going between his legs to wrap around his throbbing cock and move his hand up in time to the one going inside of her. Clarke was squirming, sobbing out his name as she dug her fingers into the cushions of the couch. "Fuck, Bell—Bellamy, please...I need—need _you_!" He felt her come a second time, her vaginal muscles tightening around him, and then he pulled out, releasing his own cock as he looked around the room.

"Condom?" He asked, his voice raspy with lust.

"Uh," Clarke tried to think, but her head was cloudy. "I, uh..." Bellamy gave her a smirk and then disappeared, climbing off the couch and walking unsteadily out of the room. Clarke shivered at the lack of contact and warmth from her body, but it gave her a moment to catch her breath, her body still thrumming with intense arousal. Every nerve ending in her body felt like it had been touched with a live wire, and her head snapped back when she heard Bellamy come back.

"I remembered from last time," he said to her as he held one up triumphantly. She let out a short huff of laughter as he ripped open the condom and sheathed himself, resuming his position on the couch in between her legs. He pushed her legs backwards again, manhandling her so that they were hooked over his shoulders and when he pushed inside of her, shoving himself in without giving her any warning and she let out a high pitched squeak before her sounds changed to breathy moans. Bellamy couldn't help but groan with her, feeling her tighten around him and cry out his name. His body was strung tight with tension, and he could feel the curl at the base of his spine tightening, indicating that he was close to his orgasm.

"Come on, Bellamy," Clarke whispered, biting lightly at the shell of his ear and scratching her hands up his inked skin of his back, pulling his orgasm from him. He let out a growl, biting down into her shoulder as he emptied himself into the condom. Afterwards, they lay there, Bellamy sliding to the side so that he wasn't resting his full weight on top of Clarke. When they caught their breath, Clarke kissed his chest before she got up and padded out of the room. He noted how she was walking a little gingerly and he couldn't help but grin slightly, knowing that she was going to be feeling him every time she moved for the next few days. When she came back, she was wearing a clean pair of lacy underwear, her hair pulled back in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"Yeah, just a water," Bellamy said. "I'm just going to go and clean off." He left the room, disposing of the condom in the rubbish bin in the bathroom and then came back and put on his briefs, sitting back down on the couch. Clarke handed him a glass of water and sat down next to him, curling her legs up underneath her. They were quiet for a moment and then Bellamy glanced over at her. "You know, it's kinda of weird that you're a tattooist, but you only have one tattoo." He reached out and brushed his fingers against her side.

"I see people all the time, come in and just impulsively decide to get a tattoo without putting much thought into it. And then I see people who have thought years about getting one before actually going through with it. It doesn't matter which kind they are, some of them regret it, some of them don't," Clarke shrugged. "I love tattooing, mainly because I absolutely love art. But this is the only tattoo that I know I needed to get." Bellamy nodded, understanding. The tattoo was on her left side, an intricate design of an anchor with tiny blue flowers wrapped around it, and the word _Dad_ scrawled up one side.

"Do you think that you'll ever get another one?" He asked.

"Maybe," Clarke took another sip of her water. "Like maybe if I have kids? I think I would probably want their names on me."

"I get that," Bellamy agreed. She tilted her head to the side and let out a laugh.

"Well, clearly! You've got heaps of them," she responded. Bellamy smiled back at her, but his face quickly sobered up, remembering the reason that he was there. He put down his glass of water on the coffee table and reached out to touch Clarke's chin lightly. He tipped her face upward so that he could properly look at her face when he asked the next question.

"What happened, Clarke?" He asked her softly. She faltered and tried to drop those big blue eyes of hers, but he kept her face steady with his hand.

"It's the results that they were running on some DNA they found on Raven. Like under her fingernails and shit," Clarke told him. "And they came back as positive for this guy who's a part of a MC a few cities over."

" _Devils Fist_ , right?" Bellamy asked, remembering the name, and she nodded. "Well, that's pretty much them declaring war," he sighed, knowing that this wasn't going to lead to anything good. Two rival MC's against each other...If it lead to a war, it would be a blood bath. "What are Kane and the others thinking?"

"Wick wants to go in there, kill everyone and everything he can get his hands on," Clarke sighed.

"Understandable," Bellamy interjected.

"Yeah, but dad and Theo are more level headed than that," she licked her tongue along her lower lip. "Although if it was me or mum, he would be going crazy." Bellamy nodded, and then said something he had thought a few times over the past few weeks since getting to know Clarke.

"I think it's pretty cool that you call Kane 'dad'." She gave him a small smile and looked as though she was about to reply when her phone rang. She made an apologetic face and reached for it, looking a the caller ID before answering. "Hey, mum." Bellamy leaned backwards to give her some privacy, resting against the back of the sofa, but sprung forward almost immediately when he saw the panicked look on her face. "Mum? Mum, what's going on? Are you okay?...Mum?!"

"It's Kane and some of the boys—baby, they've all been arrested."


	23. Chapter 23

"I don't understand what happened," Clarke frowned, her hand tightening around Bellamy's. "I don't— _what happened_?!"

"Kane was calling a meeting," Theo began, his voice grim. "He didn't want to meet at the club house because you never know who could be watching." He took in a deep breath as he glanced around the room, at Abby who was sitting with a set expression on her face on the couch, and then at Dax and Wells, who had their arms crossed over their chests, before looking back at Clarke and Bellamy, who were standing in the doorway. "And the thing is, he's pretty sure that there are people watching. So they were going to meet out at the gun house."

"Shit," she breathed as Clarke realized then how bad the arrest was and she took in a breath through her nose, chewing down hard on her lower lip. Bellamy was still confused, but he could sense her distress, and he moved his arm so that instead of being pressed against hers, it was around her shoulders. If the arrest was at the gun house, the brothers would have been surrounded by illegal weapons.

"And that's when the cops came in," Theo concluded.

"Someone had to tell them about the gun house," Abby said, her voice tight, the corners of her mouth pinched. "The location of that, it's—"

"Hardly anyone knows," Clarke finished. Bellamy rubbed his thumb over her bare arm, trying to comfort her but now really knowing how.

"I suggest we don't tell anyone that we think that yet," Wells mumbled. "Everyone will just start turning on each other." Dax grunted his agreement and Theo nodded as well. Abby didn't look happy, but at the end of the day, it wasn't her decision to make. Clarke looked over at the dark skinned vice president.

"Then what are we doing now?" She asked.

"We're waiting for bail to be set," Wells told her. "The attorney will call us once it's been done and then we'll know. She's pushing for it to go through quicker, and we could have a chance, since it's still early afternoon. Courts don't close til five. But then if we want to get them out today, we're going to need to get the money together fast."

"You realize that they're going to set it high, right?" Clarke let out a jerky breath. "Fucking assholes."

"Baby, we'll be fine," Abby told her. "Whatever it is, we'll manage it. We only need ten percent, remember?"

"But ten percent for everyone that's in there? That's seven of our boys," this time it was Wells doing the worrying. "And they've got the president of the MC. They're not going to set him at anything lower than a million, we know that from past experience."

"How many times has this happened?!" Bellamy suddenly burst out, and all eyes were on him. He bit his tongue and his cheeks heated up slightly.

"We've all been arrested," Theo said bluntly with a flat expression. "Usually it's on stupid shit, because we're too good at covering our tracks. But this is big. This is what the pigs get their panties in a twist about; catching the president of the local MC surrounded by hundreds of illegal and unregistered weapons? A lot of them related to unsolved crimes in the area?" He let out a sigh as he rubbed his hand across his forehead. "It's no doubt that they're going to try and make an example of this."

"Then we'll put up the house as collateral," Abby stated, not thinking twice about the implications of that action. "Look, I need coffee. Does anyone else need coffee?" There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room and Abby got up from the couch, walking into the kitchen with Theo close behind her. Clarke looked down, grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket and a lighter.

"I need to have a smoke," she muttered, turning and walking out the front door. Bellamy followed after her, pursing his lips together as she put a cigarette in the corner of her mouth and rolling her thumb over the lighter. He closed the front door behind them so that they had some privacy. He noted the way her hands were shaking, almost to the point where she could light up the end of the cigarette, but she managed. She took in a long drag and closed her eyes, tilting her head backwards.

"So...The gun house?" He began, wanting to understand what exactly was going on.

"The gun house is pretty much where everything is kept. _Everything_ ," Clarke said, beginning to pace. "I mean, the club house is like the meeting place, and essentially where the club is based from, but it's too open. Everyone knows about it, so it's not the safe place to keep everything."

"And by everything, you means guns—weapons," Bellamy supplied.

"Mainly," Clarke jerked her head in a nod, still sucking away on the cigarette as though it was a life line. "But it's also got money, any evidence that we need to keep track of and..." her pink tongue flickered out nervously. "And the ledger."

"Like an accounting ledger?"

"Kinda of," she winced. "But also it includes all transactions with other clubs, their names, phone numbers—everything," she repeated, letting out a long stream of smoke. Bellamy nodded, at least finally understanding that part of what was going on. But there was something else that Thelonious and also Abby had said that had confused him.

"Um, why did do you guys think that someone is watching? Like, do you just mean someone from this city? Or someone linked to the club?" Clarke's pacing faltered for a moment and she pulled the cigarette out of her lips, flicking the ash to the ground as she tapped her feet against the concrete.

"Someone linked to the club. Because no one outside of the club knows where the gun house is," Clarke said.

"But didn't you just say that Kane was going to meet a bunch of other clubs there?" Bellamy reasoned.

"He wouldn't have told them over the phone where it was. He would have told them to meet them somewhere and then gone out there," Clarke informed him, her words curt. "And as soon as they had finished their meeting, they would have moved everything out to another gun house. The houses are all brought under so many aliases, there's no way to tie it to the club, so there's no way for the cops or Feds to trace it, and then get a warrant on it."

"Unless they catch them there," Bellamy concluded with a sigh.

"Unless they catch them there," Clarke agreed. "And given no one knows where it is, and no one else except the club knew that Kane and a bunch of them were going to be there, then..." she dropped her cigarette and stomped it out with the heel of her boot. "Then it has to be someone in the club who is helping them."

"Shit," Bellamy's eyes eyes widened as he fully grasped the severity of the situation. "Shit." Clarke nodded.

"Wells is right," she said quietly. "If it gets out that someone in the club is ratting out to the cops, or worse—to another club, things will get ugly really fast. Because they're a brotherhood, they're connected by something thicker than blood, and if someone violates that trust that they have, then they will go after that person with everything they have." Bellamy didn't doubt that for a second. He reached out and pressed their lips together. Clarke let him hold her, his arms around her waist and pulling her body against his, before the front door opened and someone was clearing their throat behind them.

"Bail's been posted," Wells said. "We're heading down now."

"How much?" Clarke asked, breaking away from Bellamy.

"Quarter million," Abby huffed, appearing behind Wells, buttoning up her jacket.

"What?!" Bellamy exclaimed.

"Quarter of a million. That's ten percent of all of them put together," Abby sighed. "We need to go to the bank and get what we can together, and then sort out getting the house put up for the rest."

"You can't put your house up as collateral," Bellamy began and Abby looked over at him, her eyes hard.

"Sweetie, my husband and his men aren't going to run, they're not cowards. We'll get it all back once they show in court," she said. Bellamy pursed his lips. That hadn't been what he meant to imply, that they were going to loose the house because the men were going to leave, and they would loose their bail. He meant it was their _home_ , and Bellamy knew that it had been their home for a long time— _Clarke's_ home—because he knew that was where Jake had lived. It didn't feel right putting that on the line, even if it was guaranteed back. But he knew that this wasn't his argument or his fight, so he stayed quiet as Theo and Dax came out of the house as well.

"We'll escort you there," Dax grunted as the brothers began walking toward their bikes.

"I need to go with mum," Clarke told Bellamy. "But I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Bellamy gave her a kiss on the forehead.

* * *

It was almost five when the three men pulled up outside the courthouse with Abby's SUV behind them, Abby and Clarke in the front seat. They had been frantic to get the money and the house all together, not wanting their men to be in jail overnight—not with the knowledge that someone was working against them from the inside. The courthouse was only half a block down from the jail, so as soon as the bail was posted, they would be able to walk down and get their men.

"You go in and pay the bail," Theo said, stopping outside the courthouse. "I'm going to call Sinclair, try and find out what he knows about the cops getting tipped off." Dax and Wells stayed with him outside while Clarke accompanied her mother inside.

"Excuse me?" Abby stalked into the courthouse, toward one of the tellers, exuding complete confidence and power as she walked, despite the frustration and panic that she had been showing in the car, when she was sitting next to her daughter.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" The teller asked, looking her up and down in a way that showed she knew exactly who this woman was.

"I'm here to put down bail on seven men who were arrested," Abby said. "They are Marcus Kane, Finn Collins, Kyle Wick—"

"That bail was paid for already," the teller cut her off, frowning at her screen. "The seven men who were arrested this morning, the ten percent was laid down about half an hour ago. They should be getting released any minute now." Abby frowned, and glanced over her shoulder at Clarke, who looked just as confused as she did. The two of them walked back out of the courthouse, searching out Theo and the two other boys with their eyes. When they found them, they were a few meters down the street, standing with Kane, and the other six boys, all of them looking rumpled and pissed off, but definitely not in cuffs.

"Kane!" Abby called out, forcing herself not to start running to meet her husband, but walking quickly to give him a tight hug. He kissed her hard on the mouth and then shot a tired smile over her shoulder to Clarke. "What happened? How did you get out? We only just showed up to cover the bail."

"Well," Kane raised an eyebrow and nodded over at his step-daughter. "It turns out your boyfriend maybe doesn't want to distance himself from us as much as he acts like he does." Clarke's eyes flew wide in surprise.


	24. Chapter 24

The boys were all riled up, dangerously so. Kane managed to get them under control, but it wasn't going to be for much longer. They didn't all know about the results of the DNA, it was difficult to think that it was just this morning that those had come in, but they knew that something was up. Kane had told them to go home, to relax, to shower and then they would convene in the morning. Clarke stayed at their house for that night, sleeping on the couch, feeling good knowing that her parents were just down the hall and Finn was sitting on the couch opposite her. The next afternoon, she changed into a set of clothes that she left in her old childhood home. Kane still didn't want Clarke to be alone, but she had kissed him on the cheek and said that she was going to find Bellamy.

He had said to thank her boyfriend for all of them.

She text him and asked if Bellamy was home, driving over to his apartment before he had even replied. She got there and was about to get out when she got a response, saying that he was at work, making up for the time he had missed the previous day. So then she started up her car again and drove to his garage. He was the only one there when she pulled up outside and walked inside. She was glad that she had grabbed the jersey from her boot earlier, throwing it on over her tee-shirt and hanging low over her denim cut off shorts, because there was a bite in the air.

"Bellamy?" She called out as she walked into the garage, scuffing the toe of her ankle boots on the concrete. The place appeared to be empty, which made sense, since it was a Saturday. All the other boys would be out enjoying their weekend.

"In here!" Came a shout back. She followed the voice, down the back and into the tiny office. Bellamy looked up when she walked in, and easy smile on his face as he dropped the pen he had been using. "Hey," he murmured. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm good, I'm good," she nodded as she folded her arms over her chest. "So...You paid for them all to get out?" Her voice squeaked a little as she walked further into the room. Bellamy's smile dropped and he jerked his head in a nod and a half shrug, clearly trying to play off the importance of what he had just done for her. "No, don't just shrug it off," Clarke sat down on the edge of the desk, next to where he was sitting in his wheely chair. "That was amazing. Thank you," her voice was laced with sincerity as she stared down at him.

"It's okay," Bellamy told her, reaching out and putting his hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it comfortingly. "I couldn't let you and your mum put up your house. I know that you said it wouldn't be a problem, and that you'd get it back, but I just didn't like the idea of you guys needing to risk that."

"You didn't like the idea of us needing to put up quarter of a million dollars, so you did it for us?" She asked disbelievingly, one of her eyebrows raised. Bellamy blinked at her, as though just realizing what he had done, but then he shrugged again.

"Your mum said that they wouldn't run, so I'll get it back. I have savings, I run good businesses that make good money," he lifted his hand from her thigh to her cheek and brushed his thumb over her cheek. "It's fine, okay? Besides, I'd rather them be in charge around here than some other MC. I'm kind of sweet on their Princess." Clarke smiled, and then leaned forward, kissing him hard on the mouth. It didn't last long, though, because her phone started ringing in her pocket. She pulled away and jerked it out of her pocket and answered it, putting it to her ear.

"Hello?" She rested her forehead against Bellamy's for a second before jerking back, a smile on her face. "Are you serious? That's amazing! Thank you so much—I'll be over soon." She hung up the call and then met Bellamy's expectant gaze. "That was the hospital—or at least, our contact at the hospital. The swelling in Raven's brain is finally coming down, so they're going to stop giving her the drugs to induce the coma."

"That's great!"

"Yeah," Clarke let out a sigh of relief. "With all this shit that's going on, we kinda needed some good news, you know? I'm going to head over there now."

"Hey, what about having someone with you?" Bellamy reminded her.

"I'm going to be at the hospital. I think I'll be safe there," Clarke smirked.

"Are you sure? Would Kane be okay with you going alone?" Bellamy asked, still looking nervous. Clarke rolled her eyes as she got off the desk and kissed his cheek.

"And you think that you two are nothing alike," she commented with a grin before flouncing out of the room. Bellamy smiled as she left, liking the way that she looked a lot lighter than she had yesterday. The blondes life was still crazy and there was a lot to sort through, but Bellamy knew all about needing just one ray of sunshine to make everything feel better. He sighed as he heard her car start and picked up the pen he had been using, twirling it around in his fingers before tapping it against the side of his forehead.

He knew that he should stay in the garage.

He had lots of work to catch up on, given he had been pretty distracted for the past couple of weeks and had been falling behind on all the paper work.

And yet a minute later, he found himself tossing down the pen, grabbing his keys, and heading out of the garage, pulling down the roller door behind him.

* * *

"Have you listened to it?" Kane asked, his words curt as he looked down at the disc in his hand.

"No, I haven't," Sinclair replied, licking his lips nervously. "I only just had time to get this burnt onto CD before I finished." Kane nodded.

"Thank you," he said, looking pointedly over his shoulder toward the front door and Sinclair got the message, nodding his head. Sinclair turned toward the door and pulled it open, stopping in surprise when he saw Bellamy on the other side, lifting his hand to knock. Bellamy looked taken aback by seeing a man with a police uniform under his thick jacket, but Kane waved his hand slightly, indicating that it was okay. "How can I help you, Bellamy?" Kane asked as they closed the front door. "Is there something that you needed—the money for the bail is guaranteed—"

"I'm not here about that," Bellamy interrupted. "I know you're good for it." Kane's eyebrow quirked in surprise but he stayed quiet. "I'm here to ask, again, if there's anything I can do to help." Kane looked at him for a long moment, and Bellamy wondered if Kane was going to turn him away again, but then he stepped aside, allowing him further into the house. In the lounge, Theo, Wick, Dax and Finn were standing there, all with their arms crossed over their chest and somber expressions on their faces.

"We just got a recording of the 911 call that was made to report us being at the gun house," Kane told him, his voice quiet. "It probably won't help us much, but there's the off chance that we will recognize who it is—maybe find out who it is on the inside."

"I still don't believe that it's one of us," Wick said resolutely, swallowing hard. Bellamy looked over at him and felt a pang of sympathy. The first few times he had seen this man, he had always looked so happy and carefree. Now, he just looked sour, his eyes sunken from the lack of sleep and his lips pursed in such a thin line that looked practically non-existent. Bellamy couldn't blame him, the love of his life had been beaten to a pulp and put into a medically induced coma. "I can't believe that it was one of my brothers who had something to do with Raven," his voice broke off and he dropped his gaze to the ground.

"Let's listen to the recording," Kane murmured, sitting down on the couch in front of the laptop. He slid the CD inside and Bellamy came into the room, shoving his hands into his pockets, standing behind the couch. The Phantoms brothers in the room all shuffled to move around the couch as well, as Kane opened up the CD file and starting the media file. There was a fizzle and a crack and then a voice came through the speakers.

"911, can I get you the police, fire department or ambulance?"

"Police, please," came a muffled voice. "I have information regarding the motorcycle gang, the one that Marcus Kane runs. He is going to be 956 Ringcold Street—" the voice cleared up and all of sudden, everyone in the room knew who was talking—even Bellamy. All eyes in the room spun to the left, but he was gone.

"Where the fuck is Dax?" Kane spat out, his hands shaking with anger.


	25. Chapter 25

"It's Dax?!" Wick's eyes were flashing, the whites of his eyes spinning as he spun around and put his hands to his head, tearing at his hair. "Dax betrayed us?!" Bellamy stepped away from the other man, a little worried about whether or not he was going to start punching things or people, and that was when he noticed the hole in the wall. He wondered when that got there, because it wasn't when he had been here last.

Then again, it had been a very stressful past few weeks.

It was understandable if people had been loosing their tempers.

"Wick," Finn put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Wick pulled away, grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and storming through the kitchen and out the back door. Finn looked after him, and then back down at the laptop. The recording had finished playing, but the sound of Dax's voice was still branded in all of their minds.

"Shit," Theo let out a harsh breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers as he processed what had just happened. "I really didn't want to think that..." he didn't bother finishing what he was saying, knowing that everyone was thinking the same thing. Bellamy swallowed hard, looking between each of the men, all of them wearing identical, furious expressions.

"Bellamy," Kane somehow managed to keep his voice controlled, although his hands were curled into fists that were white-knuckled. "Where's Clarke?" Bellamy took a moment to realize that Kane was talking to him. He shook his head and took in a deep breath.

"She's at the hospital," he managed to say. "They rang and said that the swelling in Raven's brain was going down, so they're going to lift the coma." This should have been a good moment for Wick, to find out that his girlfriend was doing better, that they thought she was going to be okay, but instead, he was being faced with this betrayal. "She left for the hospital about twenty minutes ago, she should be there by now."

"I need you to go and get her," Kane said, standing up, his shoulders trembling slightly from barely concealed rage. "I need you to get her and take her back to your place—not hers, _yours_. You get me?" Bellamy nodded his head. "And you keep her safe." Bellamy nodded again, not asking what they were going to be doing, because in all honesty, he didn't want to know details. He knew that it wasn't going to be legal what they were doing, and the less he knew, the better. He walked toward the front door, his hand clenched around his keys as he started toward his car.

"Bellamy!" Came a curt voice. He looked over his shoulder toward Finn, who was stalking toward him. He knew that Finn had never liked him, from the way that he was always glaring at him, and his over-protectiveness that he felt toward Clarke was clear. He shifted from foot to foot, knowing that usually it was Finn who looked after Clarke when things got rough, and he didn't want their to be any confrontation.

"Look, I'll keep her safe, okay?" He began, his voice strained but determined.

"That's not what I was going to say," Finn let out a short breath before reaching behind him and pulling out a gun from where it was tucked into his belt. Bellamy's body tensed in surprise as the weapon was put between them, but then Finn held it out to him, his hand around the muzzle. "This is untraceable. Use it if you need it, okay?" Bellamy took the gun from him, weighting it in his hand before lifting up his shirt and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, the safety flicked on.

"Thanks," he said shortly, turning to walk toward his car.

"Oh, and one other thing, Bellamy," Finn called out, stopping the other man once more. "You can't lie to her. She'll see right through it, and she won't trust you again easily, and she _definitely_ won't let you drag her away from Raven's hospital room. You need to tell her the truth." Bellamy licked his tongue over his lower lip nervously and gave a small smile, realizing that Finn was actually trying to help him.

"Thanks," he repeated. Finn nodded at him and gave him something that looked as though it could almost be a smile and then turned around to go back into the house. Bellamy got in the car and turned over the engine, dialing Clarke's number into his phone with one hand while the other pulled on his seat belt. For a long few moments, it didn't begin to dial, and Bellamy frowned, but then it began ringing, and Clarke answered.

"Bellamy?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly. "Sorry...Reception's not...Bloody hospitals..."

"Clarke? Look, Clarke, I'm coming up to get you, okay?" Bellamy replied, trying to keep his voice steady, not wanting to scare her.

"Bellamy? I can't hear...Call you later."

"Clarke?!" Bellamy let out a frustrated growl as she ended the call. He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and pulled out of the driveway. Hospitals had notoriously bad reception, so it was understandable that she wouldn't have been able to hear him, but that didn't mean it soothed any of his nerves. He didn't want to send her a text and freak her out, this definitely wasn't something that she needed to worry about. She was at a hospital, and it's not like anything bad was going to happen. Him going over there was simply a precaution, and that's why Kane wanted him to take her back to his place.

Just to keep her safe while they sorted things out with Dax.

And by sorted out...Bellamy assumed it was along the beating and maiming kind of lines.

* * *

"Hey, I'm here to see Raven Reyes," Clarke said as she walked up to the main desk. Usually she would have gone straight up to the floor where Raven was being held, but she wasn't sure if she would have been moved if her condition had changed, so she had opted to ask before taking the elevator. "I got a phone call that said that her medically induced coma was being lifted?"

"Are you family?" The prissy receptionist looked up from the computer in front of her with a raised eyebrow. Clarke forced herself not to snap back at the girl, although the smile she had approached the desk with faded.

"No, but I was called and told to come in," Clarke replied.

"If you're not family, then—"

"Okay, sweetie," Clarke cut off the practiced spiel that was about to be spouted by the sour faced girl. "I'm here to see Raven, and I don't give shit—"

"Clarke?" It was the nurse that had been keeping an eye on Raven since she had come in, Maya Vie. "I'll take it from here." Clarke turned her narrowed eyes from the receptionist with a stick up her ass toward Maya, who gave her a comforting smile. "She's still in the same room," she said as she lead the way toward the elevator. "Now, she hasn't properly woken up yet, which is good. It wouldn't be a good idea to wake by herself in a hospital room, because we don't know how much she would remember from just before the accident."

"The doctor said that there might be some short term memory loss," Clarke replied as the elevator whizzed upwards.

"Yes," Maya nodded. "And there can be some confusion when she's first coming out of it. It's just really important not to stress her or make her feel worried." The elevator dinged and the doors opened and Maya caught Clarke's arm before she started walking down the hallway toward Raven's room. "I did try and call her partner, but I couldn't get through to him. I think it's a good idea if he was here as well, when she wakes up, don't you think?"

"Yeah, his phone was off when I tried him as well," Clarke grimaced. "Uh, he's really busy, but I'll keep trying him."

"I did manage to reach a few of the other boys, I figured you all wanted to be in the know."

"You're awesome," Clarke told the nurse. Maya gave her a smile and then the two went their separate ways. Clarke walked down the hall to Raven's room. Drew, the MC's prospect, was sitting in the uncomfortable chairs on the opposite side of the hall, and he looked up with a half smile as she approached. There had been someone on watch at all time, and poor Drew was catching most of the flack, given he was the prospect.

"Hey, Clarke," Drew smiled at her as he stood up.

"Hey," Clarke grinned at him. "Did you hear the good news?"

"Yeah, doctors have been in and out all afternoon," Drew nodded.

"Look, you go home and get some rest," Clarke told him, reaching out and kissing him on the cheek. "You look terrible."

"Uh, I don't know," he looked torn. "Kane wants me to stay here until the next person comes in to take over."

"It's fine," Clarke persuaded him. "You look like shit. You need to go home and have a shower and have some proper food, not this hospital shit." Drew pursed his lips and then let out a sigh. "Anyway, Bellamy rang me and he said something about coming here as well. I don't know why he's coming, but dad will be totally fine with Bellamy being the one here with us, okay?" Drew finally nodded and gave her another smile.

"Thanks, Clarke. You're the best," he gave her a wave and headed down the hallway. Clarke licked her lips, feeling a wave of nervousness rush over her as she entered her best friends room. Usually the room was filled with artificial light, but since it was evening, they only had the side lamp on, which was nicer on the eyes. The room was filled with flowers and cards, brought by members of the club and all of her friends, and Clarke sat down at the seat beside the head of the bed. Raven's face was definitely looking better than it had been, the bruises were fading from the dark blue and purple to a faded yellow, and the scratches and scrapes had scabs and were beginning to heal.

"Hey, Raven," Clarke said quietly, slipping her hand into her friends and curling her fingers around it. "You know it's about time to wake up, right?" She had been talking to Raven aimlessly every time she came in. The doctors said that it was good for her to hear familiar voices, and so even when she had nothing to say, she read out stupid statuses that girls from their high school would put up on Facebook. Her and Raven had always made fun of them, and Clarke didn't want Raven to feel left out when she came back around. "Uh, so things are still a little shit out here, ya know? And I really need you to come back around. I mean, mum is awesome—and Bellamy is great. Did you know he paid bail for them to get out of jail?" Clarke snorted. "Oh right, yeah. They all got arrested. I hadn't told you that." She took in a deep breath, looking up at Raven, who was still utterly still in the bed.

She really wasn't sure how fast all of this was meant to work, but it couldn't work fast enough for her.

"I miss you, Raven. And Wick is going crazy without you. Like he is literally falling apart without you," Clarke squeezed her friends hand. "We need you." She was about to say something else when she heard something behind her. Expecting it to be Maya, she turned around with a smile and then froze.

Dax.

Standing there, looking pale but intimidating.

With a gun clenched in his hand.


	26. Chapter 26

Clarke swallowed, her eyes widening as she looked at him. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, trying to school her features into a calm expression as she flickered her gaze over him. She let go of Ravens hand and turned slowly in her chair, not wanting to spook him and cause some sort of snap reaction. If he didn't have the gun in his hand and the wired expression on his face, then she would think that he was there to take over from Drew's watch.

But she could definitely tell he wasn't there to take over from Drew.

One glance at him and she knew instantly that things weren't right.

"Dax..." she began, keeping her voice soft. "Are you okay?" Dax was letting out short breaths through his nose, and he began tapping the muzzle of his gun against his thigh loosely, as though to a beat in his head. He looked torn, his eyes jerking around the room. Clarke was chewing down on her lip, _hard_ , trying to stop herself from panicking. The pain coming from her lip and slight metallic taste of blood was enough to keep her anchored, and she attempted a smile. "Dax..."

"You need to be quiet, Clarke," he suddenly said to her, his voice abrupt. Clarke felt herself tense at his words, hearing the grate in his tone. Part of her was saying that she should do what he said, but the other part of her said that if she left him alone with the ramblings going on in his head would be a really bad idea. So she went with her second thought, and kept going.

"Dax, whatever is wrong, we can work it out. We can talk about it," she continued soothingly, lowering her voice so as not to scare him. "But first, I think that you should put the gun down."

"I can't do that, Clarke," Dax growled, the gun in his hand suddenly stilling and his head snapped up to glare at her. She was shocked by the furious look in his eyes and her stomach tightened, ice running through her veins. She had always been good at keeping her cool though, or at least looking as though she was—it all came with the life style she had grown up in. So she forced a smile and slowly stood up from her chair.

"Why not, Dax? What's wrong?" She was trying to take in everything she could without making it obvious what she was doing. There was something wrong with his eyes. Apart from looking torn, his pupils were also blown, and she could see the trace of something white just under his nose. "Dax, do you think that things are a little crazy right now because you're on something? Coke, maybe?" Dax didn't say anything, his lips were pinched. "Dax..." Clarke took a step closer, her fingers twitching at her side, wondering how much closer she was going to need to get before she could make a move for the gun.

And where were all the doctors and nurses?

Usually they were swarming up and down this floor at all hours of the day and night, given it was the intensive care unit.

"Dax—"

"I'm sorry, okay, Clarke?!" Dax snapped at her, looking a whole lot more focused, and taking a step further into the room, forcing Clarke to jump back at his words. It was as though he had finally made his decision and now he was glaring at her with a purpose. "I like you, and I like Raven, and I didn't want to hurt her, and I don't want to hurt you—"

"You did this to Raven?!" Clarke cried, unable to bit back her words, her eyes widening in horror. "How could you do that, Dax?!" So much for trying to handle this diplomatically. Her bright blue eyes then narrowed at him and she clenched her jaw angrily. "You fucking pathetic—"

"I'm sorry!" Dax said adamantly, as though he really meant it, but he was still stepping toward her menacingly, crowding her against the Raven's bed.

"We're your friends—your _family_ , Dax!" Clarke continued, figuring she was already on the defensive, there really wasn't any going back. "How could you have anything to do with what happened to Raven?!" She stepped up to Dax, meeting his gaze defiantly and she could see him faltering slightly.

"I didn't mean for her to get hurt!" Dax put one hand to his head, his eyes spinning upwards as he backed away from her and began pacing the room. "She just—she saw me with Cage and I—I had to take care of her—"

"Take _care_ of her?" Clarke spat out at him. Despite how angry she was, her eyes watched him as he kept pacing, turning her body to the side as he kept pacing, sliding her phone out of her pocket and fumbling with screen. Dax had turned to the window, and common sense would usually have her running for the door, but she couldn't leave him alone in the room with Raven. Not when it looked as though his intentions of coming here were to finish off her best friend. "So you're the one that ran her off the road?!" Her finger swiped across the screen and unlocked her phone. She glanced down and went into her call logs, pressing down on Bellamy's recent call, dialing him back.

"I had to do it," Dax was mumbling, his words all running together. Clarke guessed that it was his high catching up with his paranoia and panic at the situation. "I couldn't let—" he was cut off when there were three loud beeps, coming from her phone, indicating that the call couldn't be made to Bellamy because there was no reception.

That was when the tables flipped and Dax spun around to face her, his face set.

"Who are you trying to call?!" He snapped at her.

"No one," Clarke tried to reassure him.

"No, you're trying to call someone!" His gaze sharpening and scanning her over, the gun lifting in his hand, his hold steady again. With the way his eyes were looking at her now, she knew that she was out of time. His voice rose. "Who are you trying to—" Clarke's hand whipped upward and smacked him in the nose, sending his head snapping backwards as he let out a grunt. There was a crunch of bone breaking under the palm of her hand and she ducked under his arm and made a break for the door. There was blood dripping from his face, through the fingers of the hand he was trying to hold his nose with.

He let out a growl as she ran from the room, hearing her scream out for nurses and doctors as her feet pounded down the floor. He glanced at Raven in the bed, but made a split decision that Clarke was the bigger problem here, and took off after her.

"Nurse! Help!" Clarke screamed out as she looked up and down the floor, the whole place whipping past her as she kept running. She wasn't going to slow down and risk a glance over her shoulder, because she knew that as soon as Dax got over his surprise at her attack, he was going to be after her. She heard a grunt and a shout behind her, and she knew that he had managed to regain his composure. There were a few nurses who looked up and frowned at her, and then their expressions quickly turned to panic when they saw Dax, blood streaming down his face and a gun in his hand, running after her.

"Clarke!" She heard Dax roar after her and her eyes bounced around the hallway, trying to find anywhere else she could run. The end of the floor was quickly approaching, and there was no way in hell that she could press the button for the elevator and wait for it to come up to their level. So she turned to the right, shoving open the fire exit door and stumbling out onto the narrow metal steps. For a second, she froze. The alarm had been triggered the instant she had opened the fire exit door, and it blared loudly, piercing her eardrums.

She quickly recovered, pushing the door shut behind her as she stared down the steps. There was a mental note to herself that if she managed to get the four floors down from where she was at the moment, then she would definitely say something to the hospital about the state of the steps, all rickety and wobbling underfoot. She got one floor down and then heard a crash above her, and Dax stormed out onto the landing. Clarke swallowed hard as she stopped, looking back up at him and he met his gaze.

"Dax—Dax, please stop—" he wasn't listening, because he started down the steps and Clarke couldn't risk him catching up, so she started running again. Her breathing was labored as she managed to get down to the second storey. She heard her name, but she tried to ignore it, thinking that it was Dax. She almost tripped as she reached the ground floor, but she regained her balance, letting out a squeak when she heard Dax trample down the steps just above her head.

"Clarke!" She heard her name again and this time she knew it wasn't Dax. It was coming from in front of her and she looked up, trying to focus through the up and down bouncing motion of her running.

 _Bellamy_.

"Clarke!" He shouted again, climbing out of his car and jogging toward her. His eyes went wide as he looked above her, over her shoulder and toward the hospital, where undoubtedly Dax was chasing after her.

"Bellamy!" Clarke cried out, changing her direction slightly, so that she was running across the grass and toward the parking lot. Bellamy's car was pulled up alongside the curb, and the engine was still turned on. "Bellamy!" Clarke shouted out again, her chest tightening when she saw Bellamy's eyes widen suddenly, and then he was reaching behind him and pulling out a gun. Clarke's legs buckled in surprise and she couldn't help but stop and look over her shoulder, wanting to know why he looked horrified and had suddenly pulled out a gun.

Dax.

He was now only a few meters behind her and he was holding his gun in his hand.

He had seen Bellamy, and he stopped, lifting up his gun and aiming it at Clarke, a dangerous glint in his eye.

There was a rush in her ears and she felt as though her heart skipped a beat.

"Clarke, get down!" Bellamy shouted, and she didn't second guess him for one moment, dropping to the wet grass and putting her hands over her head just as two gun shots went off.


	27. Chapter 27

The gunshots were ringing in Clarke's ears, but for a moment, she didn't move, staying exactly where she was with the cold grass chilling her legs. Her mind was completely calm, which was the opposite reaction for most people when they hear gunshots, but she had been raised around them, and while she was scared, she was also calm. After a moment, she took in a deep breath through her nose and then looked up, her eyes instantly going toward Bellamy.

Who was thankfully still standing, the gun gripped in both hands and still pointed over her head, a set expression on his face.

Clarke turned her head back to where Dax had been, and he was dropped to the ground, holding his leg and emitting short grunts of pain. She let out a sigh of relief and rubbed a hand over her face. She was taking a moment, pulling in a few breaths to settle the nerves coursing through her body, and when she looked back up, Bellamy was standing there, gun in one hand, and the other extended toward her. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. His hands were completely steady, not a single tremble to them, a testament to his years in the service, because even men seasoned with shooting guns got nervous sometimes.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy asked, running his hand up and down Clarke's body, his eyes quickly assessing her.

"Yeah, yeah," she jerked her in a few nods. "You need to get the gun off him."

"I don't think he's going to be shooting anyone any time soon," Bellamy said, sounding certain of his comment, but walking away from her and toward the injured man. He picked up the gun that had fallen about half a meter away from Dax, and it was then that Clarke realized both gunshots had come from Bellamy's gun. He had shot Dax once in the leg, and once in the arm that had been holding the gun.

She was _very_ glad that he had shown up.

She was about to open her mouth to say something when she heard a police siren. Even though they had come out the fire escape around the back of the building, and it was evening, so there weren't many visitors, there were still staff and a few people scattered around and they would have all heard the gunshots. Someone would have then called the cops, and they needed to get out of there now unless they wanted to stick around for the rest of the night, answering questions and Bellamy likely arrested.

"We need to get out of here," Clarke said, looking over to Bellamy's car, which was still running.

"Yeah, we do," Bellamy agreed. "We're going back to Kane's." He tucked both guns into his waistband, flipping his shirt up and over so that they were covered and then pulled Dax unceremoniously to his feet. "Get to the car," he told her. If this was any other circumstance, Clarke might get annoyed with him for ordering her around, but she was grateful for it at this point. She didn't wait for him, walking quickly to the car and getting in the passenger side, shutting the door behind her. Bellamy hoisted Dax up, and Dax looked as though he was struggling to get away from him, but Bellamy leaned in and said something to him, and Dax hung his head and let himself be dragged along behind Bellamy.

"We really need to get a move along," Clarke said, worrying her lower lip as she heard the sirens getting closer. Good thing that the pigs in this town weren't particularly good at their job, or they would probably already be at the scene and making arrests.

Bellamy dumped Dax in the back of his car and slammed the door shut, but instead of going around to his side of the car, he stopped by where Clarke was and jerked open the door, putting his hands on either side of her face. He looked her up and down worriedly, checking her over for a second time to see if she had been hurt and Clarke felt a rush of affection, a small smile on her face, despite the situation that they were in. When Bellamy was satisfied, he kissed her quickly on the forehead and then shut the door, striding around to his side of the car and getting inside. The sirens were now very close, and Clarke could see the red and blue lights reflecting off the buildings as it got closer. Bellamy pulled out of the parking lot and into the sparse night traffic just as the cops were coming in from the other entrance.

Apart from Dax's intermittent grunts from the back seat, the way back to Kane's was silent. Bellamy was staring ahead, his eyebrows furrowed, clearly thinking hard about what he had just done. Clarke was also staring ahead, at least most of the time. She kept stealing glances across at Bellamy, wondering if this could be the last time she saw him.

He had told her that he didn't want to be a part of this life.

Sure, things had changed a little from the past few weeks that they've been seeing each other, but Clarke wasn't sure if it was to the point where he was happy to shoot someone and then just go on with his life.

Then again, he had also bailed out most of the local MC from jail, and that had been done of his own free will.

Maybe things had changed more than she thought.

"I need to go back to the hospital," Dax suddenly moaned. "Someone needs to have a look at my leg and my arm—there's a lot of blood." Bellamy glanced back at him disinterestedly, and then back at the road. "Man—are you even listening to me? I could be bleeding out back here!"

"You're not," Bellamy muttered.

"Mum will patch you up when we get to Kane's," Clarke added, before pursing her lips and thinking about it for a moment. "Maybe." Dax fell silent in the back, not even bothering to moan in pain anymore, undoubtedly scared into silence. Clarke took in a shaky breath as she realized that this was possibly going to be the last time she ever saw Dax. Sure, he wasn't the nicest guy, he never really had been—and hell, he had been the one who had beaten up her best friend and left her for dead on the side of the road! But she still couldn't help but feel a flood of tears rush to the back of her eyes, the pressure almost becoming too much and leaking from the corner. He had been part of a brotherhood that had been her family all her life.

Bellamy seemed to sense how she was feeling, because he reached across and squeezed her thigh softly.

"Why did you do it, Dax?" Clarke managed to bite out. "Why did you turn your back on all of us—we were your family?!"

"I was never going to move up anywhere, was I?" Dax spat out, sounding bitter. "I've been a brother with the _Phantoms_ for almost eight years now—since I was nineteen! And I've done everything that anyone ever asked of me. Your father, Kane—and I never got anything else! Wells and pretty boy Finn and Wick—"

"You know what?" Bellamy cut off his tirade and Clarke blinked away the tears that were now clouding her vision, realizing that they were now parked up outside her mother and Kane's home. "You get to tell your whole sob story to a bunch of people who have known you for the past eight years, and who have trusted and loved you for those eight years." Bellamy's voice was tight as he continued to stare ahead, slamming his hand down on the horn once. Clarke wanted more answers, but she knew that she would get them.

Sure, she might not see Dax again, but Kane and Theo and Wick...They would get the truth out of him. And then they would tell her afterwards.

It was only seconds later that there were brothers in vests and almost identical furious expressions storming out of the house and toward the car. Bellamy's expression was resolute, and Clarke was trying to figure out if it was because he was at peace with what he was doing; handing Dax over like this, or if it was because he was trying to conceal how he was really feeling.

"You fucking asshole!" Wick screamed out, throwing open the back door of the vehicle and dragging Dax out. There was a shout, and then all of the brothers were swarming around him. "Touch—my— _woman_!" He was shouting between punches and then Kane was breaking them apart. Clarke moved to get out of the car but Bellamy put a hand over hers and held her still, shaking his head slightly.

"Brother! Brother, you need to take a moment!" Kane said, pushing him back and giving him a sharp look. "Now, you're needed elsewhere."

"I'm needed right here—"

"You're needed with Raven," Kane interrupted him, gently nudging him in the direction of where the bikes were lined up on the front lawn. "She's coming out of her coma, remember? And you don't want Raven to wake up by herself." The sound of his girlfriends name clearly triggered something in his head because Wick's body seemed to go limp. Kane put a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in close so that their foreheads were pressed together, and whatever he said did the trick, because after spitting in Dax's direction one last time, he was walking over toward his bike. A second later, he was pulling on his helmet and starting his motorcycle, taking off down the street with a roar of the throaty engine. Kane walked over to Theo, saying something to him and then motioning to the other men.

"I should go and see mum," Clarke began, but Bellamy's hand just tightened around hers. She pursed her lips and was about ready to snap at him that while she was extremely grateful for all his help, that really didn't give him the authority to boss her around, but then Kane was walking over to the car, Finn close behind him. Finn came over to her side of the car, opening the door and reaching it, giving her a similar assessment that Bellamy had given her.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked, pushing back her hair to check over her face and neck, and then patting down her arms softly but thoroughly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Clarke said, batting away his hands and pulling him in for a hug. He kissed her on the cheek and gave Bellamy a nod over her shoulder. Kane rested his elbows against the window on Bellamy's side, keeping his voice low as he began.

"I need you to get her out of here," he murmured. "You remember what I said about taking her back to your place?" Bellamy nodded. "I know that we have Dax, but we don't know what else is going on; if he contacted anyone else, if—"

"I know," Bellamy assured him. "I'll keep her safe. I promise." Kane looked at him for a long moment, taking in a deep breath through his nose and then stepping back. "One thing, though, at the hospital, when I shot him, there were witnesses and there were cops and—"

"I'll take care of it," Kane told him shortly. "I'll take care of it all. You just take care of our Princess, okay?" Bellamy allowed a small smile at the nickname. "Finn!" Kane snapped. "We need to go inside." Finn squeezed Clarke's hands and then stepped away from the car, shutting the door. The car pulled away from the curb smoothly, leaving the crowd of _Phantoms_ brothers and a broken looking Dax in their wake.


	28. Chapter 28

Bellamy stopped by Clarke's house, telling her to get her clothes and toothbrush and whatever else she would need for the next few days. He didn't go in with her, knowing that they both needed just a couple of minutes alone to process what had happened. She was trying to act strong—and, _hell_ , she was being strong—but he could see the slight tremble in her hands as she grabbed the handle and got out of the car. She walked toward the house, unlocking it and disappearing inside. He let out a low groan and tipped his head backwards against the headrest, closing his eyes.

_He had just shot a man._

It wasn't the first time, and even though he hoped it would be the last, part of him doubted that. Especially since he had now firmly cemented himself at Clarke's side, and therefore, as an ally of the _Phantoms_ motorcycle club. But even though he hadn't killed Dax, the act of shooting someone still made his stomach roll over.

He turned around in his seat and looked over his shoulder, seeing the blood staining the backseat. That was going to be a mission to clean out. Good thing he was friends with a company that detailed cars, they used them quite often when they were fixing up vehicles after they had been in a crash. They wouldn't ask him many questions, which was good, because he didn't really have much of an explanation for _that_ much blood.

Clarke came back a few minutes later, carrying an overnight bag. She opened the back door and looked as though she was about to toss the bag inside, and then paused when she saw the bloody mess on the cushions. She swallowed hard and slammed the door shut, hopping in the front seat and putting the bag on her lap. Bellamy didn't say anything as they pulled back into the street and drove toward his place. It was almost nine in the evening, which was still relatively early for a Saturday night, but it felt like a life time had passed since Clarke had come to see him in the garage and thank him for helping out with the bail money.

They reached his place after twenty minutes or so of silence, driving into the underground parking lot and pulling into the car park reserved for his apartment number. Bellamy got out of his car and walked around to Clarke's side, taking the bag from her lap and waiting for her to get out before locking the door behind them and leading the way to the elevator up to his floor. He was glad that he had done some cleaning up in his place that morning before heading into the garage, although he had a feeling that the blonde really wouldn't mind. Once they were inside, Bellamy turned on the light and looked over at her.

"Uh..." he dropped her bag on the couch and ran a hand through his curly hair. "I don't know—are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want—"

"I just want a shower," Clarke interrupted him, her voice strained. Bellamy nodded.

"Sure thing," he waved his hand toward the short hall to their left. "Towels are in the cupboard next to the bathroom. I'll get us something ready to eat." Clarke walked over to her bag, unzipping it and rummaging around, grabbing out some clothes and then heading toward the bathroom. He heard the shower start as he moved into the kitchen, settling for a simple pasta sauce that would only take him ten or so minute to throw together. He put the pasta on, and then started on the sauce. Usually he was meticulous about cooking, and having clean hands and clean utensils, but it wasn't until he was cutting up the tomatoes that he realized he wasn't sure if the red staining his fingers and palms was the tomato juice or blood.

That thought alone made him freeze and stare down at his open hands.

His whole body started to shake and Bellamy had to step back from the bench, his back hitting the pantry behind him and then sliding down to the ground. He wasn't crying, but he couldn't stop his body from shaking, just from the shock. He had no idea how long he had spent on the cold, tiled floor, but he came back to the present when there was warm arms surrounding him and the smell of Clarke clouding his senses.

"It's okay," she whispered, kissing the side of his face as she sat down on the ground next to him, laying her head on his shoulder, nudging it's way into his neck, tightening her arms around him. They stayed that way for a while before Bellamy took in a deep breath.

"I'm pretty sure Kane wanted _me_ to be looking after _you_ , not the other way around," he tried to keep his voice light, but there was tension in his words. Clarke allowed him a small smile.

"We can look after each other," she murmured. "That's what a relationship is about, right?" Bellamy stared at her for a long moment, his eyes meeting her striking blue ones. She held his gaze for a while, before she took in a sharp breath through pursed lips and then dropped her eyes, and he caught the flash of sadness. He felt better after his semi-breakdown, and he gathered Clarke up easily. He carried her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, sitting them both down on the couch.

"Did you use your own shampoo?" He asked as he rearranged her on his lap, realizing that although her hair was damp, she still smelt like _Clarke_ and not the apple stuff that he had.

"Yeah, brought it from home," she told him quietly. He then took in the rest of her appearance, and he could literally feel the moment that his heartbeat increased. Despite the fact that she had brought her own clothes, she was wearing one of his shirts, something that she must have obtained from his bedroom. He fingered the hem, and Clarke made a huffing noise under her breath. "I like wearing your clothes," she shrugged.

"I like you wearing my clothes," he replied, and she gave him another half smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He wasn't sure what else to say, so he just hugged her close, burying his face in her hair.

"You should probably go and have a shower," Clarke said after a few minutes. Bellamy grunted in response, knowing that she was right, but not really wanting to move from the comfortable position he had found himself in. But after a few more minutes, he realized that he still hadn't washed his hands, so that blood that was there, and probably also on his clothes, was going to be rubbing against Clarke.

"Okay, I'm gonna head down to the bathroom," he whispered. "And when I get back, we should probably go to sleep." Clarke shrugged, not looking very convinced, but he figured he would leave that until he got back. It wasn't as though it was late enough to go to bed on a Saturday night, but they had been through a lot that day, and they could both use an early night. "Uh, remotes in the drawer," he nodded at the coffee table. "Just watch whatever you want." He shifted her off his lap and headed down the hall and toward the bathroom. It was still warm and the mirror steamed up from when Clarke had been in here, and when he opened the door for the shower to turn it on, he could see her shampoo and body wash on the shelf next to his.

Clarke flicked aimlessly through the channels, not finding anything worth watching. She finally settled on a TV show that she had been watching on and off for the past few weeks, _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_. She was always down for a bit of Andy Samburg gazing. There was a folded blanket on the ground next to the couch, probably something he kept handy for when he fell asleep in front of the TV. She pulled it over her, snuggling down with the blanket up around her chin and head on one of the pillows.

Bellamy was right, they probably should go to sleep. But her body was wound up to tight, running through all of the things that were possibly happening to Dax and the rest of the brotherhood right now. Even though they had dropped him off at Kane and Abby's house, they would have then dragged him off to the clubhouse. They wouldn't have conducted the interrogation at Abby's home, out of respect for her.

There was no way that Dax was walking away from this.

He betrayed the club.

And he had almost killed Raven, an old lady of one of the clubs most respected members.

And even though he wasn't walking away from it, it wasn't going to be easy for him. He was going to be tortured. He was going to pay for what he did. While there was a part of Clarke that was glad about that, there was another part of it that was making her stomach churn.

Dax had been a part of the club for years, maybe about five or six. He had been a prospect when her father was the President, and that loyalty had continued when Kane had taken over. Clarke remembered that Dax had been one of the men that had come by the house, when she had been at home with Abby, he had helped with mowing their lawns and doing their grocery shopping and keeping their house clean. They had gotten drunk and stoned together more times than she could count, and there had even been one sloppy make out session that they had both laughed about the next day.

She didn't even realize that she was crying until a tear reached her mouth and she tasted salt.

"Wanna scooch over?" Bellamy asked her softly, appearing beside of the couch, wearing a loose pair of basketball shorts and a white wife beater. Clarke silently shuffled forward so there was space for Bellamy behind her and he climbed in, resting between her body and the cushiony back of the sofa. He shifted the blanket so that it was over both of them and put an arm around her waist, pulling her body in closer to him and spooning her.

"How did you know to come to the hospital?" Clarke murmured. Bellamy rested his head on the cushion that she was on, tilting his head forward so that when he talked, the movement of his lips brushed against the back of her neck.

"After you left the garage, I went around to see Kane," he said. "I wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help. When I got there, that cop guy—"

"Sinclair," she offered.

"That's it, Sinclair," Bellamy nodded. "He had a recording of the 911 call made when Kane and the boys were picked up. Recognized Dax's voice as soon as it played. Kane asked me to find you, make sure you were safe." Clarke rubbed her thumb over the hand he had resting on her stomach. "What I don't get," he continued. "Is why he called 911? Why bother doing that? I mean, it's not like the other crew made a move while they were inside."

"Whatever his reason," Clarke said quietly. "Kane and the boys will find out by morning." Bellamy knew exactly what she meant, and he took in a breath through his nose. They both went quiet, watching the TV in silence.


	29. Chapter 29

Bellamy woke up before Clarke, the pair of them still curled up together on the couch. Bellamy winced as he rolled his shoulders, a kink in his neck from the awkward way he had slept, his head tipped upwards slightly against the arm of the couch. Clarke was still fast asleep, making little muffled, huffing noises as he moved into a seated position, and then carefully climbed over her. She rolled into the warmth of the cushions where he had just left, pulling the blanket with her. He looked down at her for a moment, looking completely innocent and unlike the badass girl that he knew she was. He reached down and brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek, pushing away a few strands of blonde hair, before he stretched his arms above his head and arched his back, cringing as his spine popped a couple of times.

He knew what she was going to want to do as soon as she got up.

Well, actually, he knew that there were two possible things that she wanted to do.

One of them would be to go and visit Raven in hospital. And the other would be she would want to go around to either the club house or to Kane and Abby's place and see what had happened with Dax, or what he had said.

And when he said hell no, she wasn't leaving the apartment, he didn't imagine it was going to go down so well.

Bellamy walked into the kitchen and began pulling ingredients for breakfast out of the fridge. He realized as he poured oil into the frying pan that he hadn't actually had dinner last night, the mundane task had been completely forgotten amidst the crazy that had happened, and his stomach let out a loud growl. He had _started_ on dinner, and then he had broken down on the kitchen floor. He settled for an apple while he started on breakfast, cracking eggs into the frying pan and then laying down slices of bacon. He put two pieces of toast in the toaster and grabbed the last few hash browns out of the freezer.

"Smells good," Clarke said, her voice rough with sleep as she walked into the kitchen and helped herself to orange juice from the fridge.

"It shouldn't be too far away. You wanna grab out plates? They're in there," he jutted out his chin toward the cupboards beside the sink. Clarke pulled out plates, and then found utensils and glasses for the orange juice, so that they could drink like civilized people rather than straight from the bottle. She set everything up on the tiny kitchen table that Bellamy had more just for the point of having one, because when he ate alone at night, he would usually just sit in the lounge in front of the TV.

"Fuck, I'm _starving_ ," Clarke mumbled as Bellamy dished up the food between the two plates and carried them over to the table, sliding one over toward her. She practically inhaled the food, shoveling it so quickly into her mouth that she barely tasted it, even though it smelt ridiculously good. She finished eating before Bellamy did, which was an accomplishment in and of itself, given how quickly Bellamy ate, and when she finished, she pushed her plate to the middle of the table. "So I was thinking that we could get dressed and swing by the hospital, check in on Raven—"

"No," Bellamy said bluntly, swallowing the last of his bacon. Clarke frowned and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What?"

"I said 'no'," Bellamy repeated to her. She looked as though she was going to start arguing, but Bellamy had been ready for that, and he carried on talking, not giving her a change to interrupt. "Kane asked me to bring you here and look after you. And while I know you're going to start arguing, and say that you'll be completely safe at the hospital, I'm going to keep you here until they call us and give us the all clear." Clarke's lips parted and she opened her mouth to say something again but Bellamy just shook his head. "This isn't a debate, Clarke," he said firmly. Clarke pursed her lips back together and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Fine," she stated. Bellamy couldn't hide his surprise.

"I thought it was going to be a lot harder to convince you to stay," he admitted.

"Yeah, well, if you're anywhere near as stubborn as your sister, then me and you will just be sitting around here arguing all day. _Or_ the other option is that I can let you have your way for a little bit, and then try again later," she tipped her lips upward in a half smile. Bellamy let out snort, knowing that it had been too good to be true, her giving up on it so quickly. But he would take the win.

"I'll get the dishes done," Bellamy said, standing up and grabbing their dirty dishes.

"No, no, it's fine," Clarke got up and held out her hands. "No way. You made breakfast, I can totally do the dishes." Bellamy shook his head and turned around, heading back into the kitchen. Clarke followed after him, waiting until he put the dishes into the sink before she nudged him to the side with her hip.

"How about I wash and you dry?" She suggested, reaching up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Bellamy smiled and nodded, grabbing a tea towel out of a drawer, waiting for her to start running the water and filling the sink. She plunged her hands into the soapy water, starting on the first plate. "So if we're staying here all day, _please_ tell me that you have Netflix?" Bellamy scrunched up his nose and cringed.

"Sorry, uh, no..." he apologized.

"Well, that's totally fine," Clarke smirked. "I'm sure you've got twelve dollars to spare on your credit card. I'm going to introduce you to a whole new world." Bellamy rolled his eyes at her but grinned as he took the plate from her and started drying it off. They washed and dried in silence and then went into the lounge, pulling the blanket on the couch over them that they had slept on last night. Clarke introduced Bellamy to Netflix, getting him a months subscription and then showing him how to use it.

Bellamy wasn't one for watching all that much TV, he honestly wasn't home enough to do it that much, but he could definitely see the appeal. He was pretty sure it wouldn't take much effort to sit there and loose hours of time, scrolling through the library of movies and TV shows.

They settled on one that Clarke said she was obsessed with and she was sure he would enjoy, _Vikings_. It only took twenty minutes before Bellamy knew that he was going to end up binging to catch up on this show and then religiously watch it. Especially with the main _Vikings_ chick being as gorgeous and badass as she was.

A bit like Clarke.

Clarke was clearly restless. She kept shifting around on the couch next to him, looking at her phone, biting on her lower lip...Bellamy was glad that she hadn't brought up the idea of leaving again, and going to either Kane and Abby's or going the hospital, but he knew that it was just a matter of time. Around lunch time, Bellamy ambled back into the kitchen to make them lunch. It wasn't as if they had been doing anything particularly active or productive with their day, but he had no idea how their day was going to end up. And if it went even half as badly as yesterday had gone, then they both needed to keep their strength up. He made them smoothies and carried them back into the lounge, handing one tall glass to Clarke.

"Thanks," she flashed him a tiny smile before taking a sip. Bellamy sighed as he put his glass down on the table.

"Are you okay?" He asked her softly.

"What do you think?" She mumbled, eyes trained on the TV.

"As soon as we get told it's safe, we'll go and see your mum, or Raven, or wherever you want to go, okay? I promise," he said to her, reaching out to take her hand and giving it a little squeeze.

"I know," Clarke gave him another smile, this one a little more genuine as she squeezed his hand back and leaned into his body. "Thank you." Bellamy nodded and picked his glass back up. They fell quiet again as they resumed the show, almost three episodes in now. Clarke's body was still tense next to him, but at least she wasn't checking her phone every couple of minutes like she had been before. It was nearly three before Clarke took in a deep breath and moved back slightly from Bellamy, and he knew that she had had enough of the waiting.

"Clarke..." he began warningly.

"No," Clarke said, narrowing her azure eyes. "I'm done with waiting, Bellamy. It's been, like...seventeen hours since we got back. I need to know what's going on with my family." Her voice was firm, indicating that she was completely uninterested in any argument that he might throw at her and he took in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Clarke," he attempted again.

"Bellamy," she shot back at him. Bellamy pursed his lips, preparing to launch a dozen reasons back at her as to why there was no way in hell that she was walking out the front door of his apartment before he got a call from someone saying that it was safe, but then her phone started ringing. She practically pounced on it, swiping her thumb across the screen and put it on speaker phone. "Hello?"

"Baby?" It was Abby. "How are you? Are you okay? Is Bellamy okay?"

"We're fine, mum," Clarke rolled her eyes. "Look, is everything okay? Is Raven okay? Kane? Finn? What happened with Dax?" There was a prolonged silence on the other end of the phone and Bellamy and Clarke exchanged looks. "Mum?"

"Come to the club house, baby. You and Bellamy come over here, okay? And we'll talk then," Abby said quietly.


	30. Chapter 30

Bellamy and Clarke dressed as quickly as they could into clothes more appropriate for going out. They took turns brushing their teeth, and the whole time, Clarke couldn't stop tapping her fingers against whatever surface was nearby her, a staccato rhythm that showed how much tension she was holding in. Clarke lead the way out of his apartment, the heels of her ankle boots tapping against the ground and one of her hands clenched around her handbag. Bellamy locked up his apartment door and followed after her, giving her about a metre or so of space. They reached the car and got inside, and Clarke resumed the tapping of her fingers, this time against her denim clad thigh. Bellamy stared his car and reversed it out of it's parking space, accelerating out of the parking garage and onto the street. About halfway there, he reached across the centre console and wrapped his fingers around hers, trying to calm her down.

It didn't really seem to help, but she gave him a thankful smile through the curtain of blonde hair that was falling around her face.

They arrived at the club house, and Clarke was out of the car before he even had a chance of turning off the engine. Bellamy took in the scene around them before following after the jogging blonde into the house and clenched his jaw when he noticed that there were drops of blood on the front wooden deck. There were quite a few bikes parked outside, but everything was quiet.

It was eerily quiet.

Clarke swallowed hard as she walked into the club, her stomach heaving as she smelt the tell tale smell of blood and something antiseptic, meaning that someone had been hurt. Her mother was probably looking after them. All of the windows were shut and the curtains pulled, and the front room of the club was completely void of people. There was the usual mess, some clothes and magazines and bottles of beer and whiskey scattered around the ground, and there was a lacy pair of underwear on the pool table, everything left over from a party that probably happened a week or so ago.

But what caught her attention and made her stop was a chair, covered in blood, with duct tape still around two of the legs. It wasn't just the chair covered in blood, it was spattered on the ground all around it as well.

"Shit!" Clarke almost jumped out of her skin as Bellamy put his hand on her lower back, given she hadn't heard him come in.

"Dax?" He asked, nodding at the chair and Clarke licked her lips.

"I'm guessing," she mumbled. They were quiet for a moment before they heard a sharp yell of pain down the hallway and they both moved quickly. Bellamy hadn't been down this part of the club house before, so he let Clarke take the lead, and they walked into a back room, with a couple of beds and a couch, and Abby looked up from where she was crouching next to an injured Finn. "Shit, what happened?"

"I need your help, baby," Abby said, glancing over her shoulder. "Can you look after Wells please? I'm still stitching this up." Bellamy leaned over Clarke's shoulder to get a better look at what the woman was doing and could see that Finn's bloody shirt was ripped open, and she was sewing together a deep gash. Clarke clearly had a bunch of questions—hell, Bellamy had a hundred questions and this wasn't even his family—but she kept her mouth shut and got to work. Bellamy felt a little useless standing there as Clarke began cleaning a wound on Wells' arm, but Abby put him to work, cleaning out the bowls of water that they had and rustling up some food and drinks to help the boys keep up their strength.

"What happened?" Clarke asked through gritted teeth after she had finished stitching up Wells and he looked as though he had passed out, probably from a mixture of pain and exhaustion. "Is this something to do with the _Devils Fist_?"

"It was Dax," Kane announced as he walked into the room, his voice and his face grim. Clarke got up from where she was crouching next to the couch and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around the President and her father figure, hugging him tightly. Kane didn't smile, but his face softened as he hugged her back, giving her a moment to relax before he pulled back and looked over at Bellamy and nodding.

"What do you mean it was Dax?" Clarke asked as she pulled back from him. "I thought he would be—I thought he was—" she didn't seem to be able to actually say the word 'dead' but everyone in the room knew exactly what she meant.

"He's taken care of," Kane replied ambiguously. Bellamy's eyebrows pulled together, fighting the urge to demand he explain himself further, knowing that now wasn't the time. He also knew that he may not like the answer. "He managed to get a knife out of Theo's belt when we got him here last night, and he put up a bit of a fight."

"You should have called me straight away," Abby reprimanded from where she was still sitting next to Finn. "You know that you can't have wounds like these just stay open."

"I know, my love," Kane nodded over at his wife. "But we were busy." Abby just narrowed her eyes a little and shook her head and Kane looked back at Clarke. "Raven is absolutely fine, Wick has been with her last night. She woke up this morning, a little groggy and shit, but the doctors think that she's going to be just fine."

"I should've been there when she woke up," Clarke mumbled.

"No, you shouldn't have," Kane told her sharply, putting one of his fingers under her chin and lifting it upward. "I told Bellamy to take you back to his place and keep you there, and that is exactly what he did. Not only did I tell him that to keep you safe, but also because you needed rest." Clarke didn't look particularly happy, taking in a breath through her nose and letting it out, nodding her head.

"What about Cage? What about the _Devils Fist_?" She asked. Kane pursed his lips as he slid an arm around Clarke's shoulders and then turned her around so that she was facing the rest of the room. Abby stood up as well, crossing her arms over her chest, and Bellamy realized that she mustn't have heard what was going on either.

"Cage is backing off," Kane told them. "After dealing with Dax, and finding out everything that he knew, we spent the rest of the night talking to our allies. No one takes kindly to a hostile take over." Bellamy didn't know the terminology of the gang, but he assumed that one was exactly what it sounded like. Cage forcibly trying to come into Kane's territory and take over his brotherhood, turning his men against one another. "And then as soon as those Presidents started talking to their men and then _their_ allies, no one was going to be a part of this with Cage."

"You know some of them had to know what was happening," Abby said quietly. "There is no way that Cage would even attempt something like this without at least one or two other clubs backing his play."

"I know," Kane nodded shortly. "But as soon as they found out that we knew, and that we were telling other clubs, they fell to the side. Clearly it was more Cage's idea than there's, and they didn't have the balls to stand up."

"We should still fucking kill him," Finn grunted, his eyes furious, from where he was laying down on the couch. "We should fucking kill them all for what they did—to Raven, and then fucking getting under Dax's skin and flipping him." All eyes in the room turned toward Finn and Kane narrowed his eyes.

"You know that they will get what's coming to them," he stated. "But that's going to happen later. If we go in there now, they'll be expecting it, and the whole thing will turn into a blood bath."

"So? You know we got more support than them?" Clearly Finn wasn't prepared to let this go, but Kane sent him a hard look and he grumpily snapped his mouth shut. Clarke looked between the two of them, licking her lips nervously before looking toward Bellamy.

"So everyone's okay? Everything's going to _be_ okay?" Clarke checked, looking around the room, her eyes settling over Finn and Wells for a few seconds longer before coming back to Kane.

"You know it always works out, baby girl," Kane said to her before looking over at Abby. That seemed to be answer enough for Clarke, although Bellamy wasn't too sure what was going on.

"As long as you think it through," the blonde murmured quietly, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss Kane on the cheek. She made a round of the room, kissing her mum, and then Wells, and then stopping over Finn. She leaned down and whispered something to him before squeezing the forearm that hadn't been injured and coming back over to Bellamy. "Can you take me home?"

"Uh," Bellamy glanced between Kane and Abby and then back to Clarke. "Yeah, sure." There was some kind of tension in the room that he wasn't really willing to be in the same room when it came to a head. Clarke and Bellamy left the room, their steps faltering slightly as they walked past the bloody chair in the main room. "What's going on in there?" He asked quietly as they got out to his car.

"Just wait," Clarke replied under her breath as they opened up the doors. Bellamy frowned a little but didn't say anything else as he turned on the engine. As they were pulling out of the driveway and onto the road, he saw Abby coming out of their house and walking toward her car. Bellamy looked across at her, ready to ask again, but she started talking before he could. "Everything's going to be fine," she told him.

"Really? Because that wasn't the impression that I was getting from what was going on in there," Bellamy raised his eyebrows.

"No, it's going to be fine," Clarke said, and she sounded certain. "There's going to be a shit storm coming, but dad is smart. Theo is smart. They'll think it through before anything happens, and they'll plan it out first. But it won't be for a while. What is it? Uh..." she tilted her head to the side. "It's the calm before the storm. It sounds scary, but it really isn't. Not with the way these boys live, they're used to it." Bellamy wasn't too sure he liked the sound of it, but Clarke seemed relaxed in her seat. "It could be ages, but for now, everything is fine. Raven is fine, dad and the boys are fine—me and you are fine," she reached over and touched his shoulder lightly. "Everything's fine."


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter !

It was now almost six months after the big night where everything went down between Dax and Clarke and Bellamy and the rest of the club. Things between the _Phantoms_ and the _Devils Fist_ were bad, and there were times when the tensions all boiled up and over and shots were fired and there were people put in hospital. Luckily, no one had been killed but it was only a matter of time. Then again, that was to be expected when you went around with a bunch of men who had two guns on them at all times and were more than a little trigger happy. Clarke had been right, though. Kane was a smart President, and Theo was a smart Vice-President, and the pair of them didn't let their tempers get the better of them. However, they also didn't let it seem as though they could walk all over them, because warnings were given every time there was even the possibility the _Devils Fist_ was getting too close.

Clarke knew what happened to Dax. He hadn't been killed, like she had assumed he was. Almost two weeks after everything happened, she was at Finn's house, drinking with him and Wells, and they had said that they had tortured him through the night until they had all the information they needed, burnt the Phantoms membership tattoo off his shoulder and he had then been driven out of town. To some people, that might sound like he got off lightly. But for someone who's whole life had been a club, being kicked out of one and left without any connection, and with absolutely no chance of being inducted into another one, that sent them spinning down a vicious cycle of drugs and depression that more often than not lead to getting their asses thrown in prison.

She was okay with that result.

He had betrayed his family, the club, and he had betrayed Raven, and then threatened _her_ as well.

Her and Bellamy were doing better as well, and he seemed to accept the life she lead, more or less. They were officially a couple, if they hadn't been before, and even though he had absolutely no interest at becoming an actual brother in the _Phantoms_ MC, Abby and Kane loved them together, and accepted them. Even Finn managed to give him a look that didn't totally breed contempt. Wells and Wick liked him—especially Wick.

Bellamy still wasn't sure exactly what happened with Dax, everyone had been pretty close lipped about it, and Bellamy had decided that it was better he didn't ask. There were still parts about the club that he didn't want to know about, although he knew his morals were slowly shifting. He was pretty sure it wasn't a good thing, but maybe it wasn't a bad thing, because the family that the club had created around him—and around Octavia and Lincoln and Murphy—was one that he liked.

Raven was doing a lot better, she was out of hospital, and had almost completely recovered. Sometimes when she was tired, her words slurred together a little bit, and at time her limp from her high school injury became a little more pronounced, but other than that, she was fine. She was a fighter, and there was nothing that she couldn't achieve if she didn't put her mind to it. Wick attempted to treat her like something fragile and delicate, and she threatened to punch him in the throat if he kept it up.

The club was a little fractured, which was to be expected after a betrayal, but they were pulling themselves together. Finn and Wells recovered quickly from the slashes they had received from Dax, although it wasn't as though those were the worst wounds they had sustained in their life style. Kane relied heavily on Abby, but then he always had. While he was the strength of the club, he would be nothing without a strong woman, or two, since he had Clarke, at his side for when things got hard.

Murphy and Emori were still going strong, the longest relationship that he had ever held down, and he had introduced him to all of his friends, not able to contain the proud smirk when Jasper and Monty's jaws had almost hit the ground when they realized that he hadn't actually made this girlfriend up and photo shopped a picture.

Jasper was seeing someone—the pretty nurse, Maya, who had been helping to look after Raven. It wasn't anything too serious yet, but the kid was clearly whipped by her. Monty hadn't found anything yet, but Maya was surprisingly adorable with allowing Jasper's best friend to tag along as a third wheel on a couple of their dates.

And Lincoln and Octavia were still perfect. Just like they always were. Maybe making out a little too much for Bellamy's liking, but there were worse things that they could be doing.

"I love this! I love this _so_ much!" Octavia was bouncing up and down, acting as though it was _her_ engagement party that they were about to attend. "Oh my god, I can't wait for the wedding! You're going to be the most gorgeous bride!" She smirked at her reflection in the mirror, flicking out her hair and spinning around. "And I'm gonna be one hell of a hot bridesmaid."

"What makes you think I'll even let you be a bridesmaid?" Raven grumbled, swatting at Clarke's hands as she tried to fix up the eyeliner under her friends right eye.

"Because you love me!" Octavia was clearly not put off by Raven's mood. Then again, Raven was almost always in a bad mood, and her friends were all used to it by now. "And because when you're having pre-wedding jitters and you're getting loaded on tequila in the bathroom of wherever you're getting married and your maid of honor, which is going to be Clarke by the way, is there to hold your hair and dress back so it doesn't get all disgusting and puked on, you're going to need someone who can entertain a crowd. And obviously, I would be perfect for that job."

"Well, you've just got it all figured out, don't ya?" Raven rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Fuck yeah, I do," Octavia nodded her head rapidly before jumping onto the bed next to her, sending Raven bouncing up and down and Clarke let out a squeak when she almost stabbed the dark haired girl in the eye with the mascara wand she was holding. "Ooh, sorry," Octavia winced apologetically.

"You're a menace," Raven muttered, jabbing her in the side and laughing.

"Can you hold still?" Clarke finally demanded. "I'm trying to get you looking all hot and shit, and you just keep moving around!"

"You know I hate all this make up shit," Raven grumbled, trying to back away from Clarke's hands again but her blonde friend just chased after her. Finally, she was finished, and Clarke straightened up with a proud smile, grabbing a hand mirror and showing Raven the final product. Raven begrudgingly said that it looked pretty good and then looked between the two girls. "Okay, so, you know that you two are going to be there with me, right? Like all the way?" She actually looked a little panicked. "Clarke, you'll be my maid of honor and you'll be my bridesmaid, right, Vee?"

"Of course," Clarke grinned and leaned forward to hug Raven.

"Yay!" Octavia threw her arms around both of the girls, burying her head between the two of them. "Now, let's go party!"

The club house was looking tidier than it had in a long time. Both Clarke and Abby had spent the last two days, scrubbing the place from top to bottom, even though they knew that as soon as this night was over, the place was going to be a mess all over again. But at least for the first part of the night, it was going to a place fitting of a bride to be. They had hung streamers and corny banners, and even though Kane had winced and said that it was an eye sore, that this was no way to treat his club, he wasn't really annoyed.

They had been through hell and back, and a moment like this—the engagement of Wick and Raven—that was something to be celebrated.

The boys were all at the club house by the time Clarke drove up, and Wick came spilling out the front door, Finn laughing as he tried to hold up his friend who was already drunk, and Raven snorted, shaking her head as she walked up the steps to the club house. She was acting as though she was disappointed by his drunken state, but she was grinning and her eyes were twinkling as he threw an arm around her shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

"Ready to get drunk?" Clarke asked as she slammed the door shut for her car and Octavia climbed out of the back seat.

"Fuck yeah, I am!" Octavia laughed, and the two girls linked arms as they walked up the steps. It was almost eight, and the night sky was completely dark, and all the lights were on in the club house. There was no doubt that later on in the night, when people were really drunk, there was going to be a bonfire started in the backyard, and that was always something Clarke loved. As soon as they got inside, Octavia was taking off toward where the drinks were all laid out on the counter, and Clarke paused in the doorway.

"Hey, baby," came a voice to the side and Clarke turned to Abby. Kane was sitting on the couch, and her mum was on his lap, both of them looking totally comfortable with beers in their hand. "I think we pulled this place together quite nicely."

"I stand by the fact that you better have all this girly shit out of here tomorrow," Kane grumbled, looking up to where there were streamers hung above him.

"Aw, are they stepping on your big, bad vibe?" Clarke teased and Kane pulled the fingers playfully at her and Clarke grinned back. She looked around, finding Bellamy standing with Wick and Lincoln. He seemed to sense her gaze on him, because he turned around and saw her, and his smile spread across his handsome face, saying something quietly to the boys he was with before walking over to her.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"How's it going? How long you boys been here?" She asked as she put her arms around his neck.

"Uh, well, Wick has been drinking since about one or two o'clock, I think," Bellamy grinned and laughed. "He called me and Murphy and asked me to drive him here are around six, and we tried to sober him up a little with pizza, but as soon as we got here, he was throwing back the Scotch again." Bellamy took a step forward so that Clarke was forced to step backwards, and he maneuvered them so that they were out on the front deck. He kicked the door shut behind them and the music muted slightly as he backed her into the railing.

"The party's in there, Mr," Clarke said jokingly as he reached down and grabbed her ass, picking her up and sitting her down on the railing.

"Yeah, but I'm sure they're not going to miss us for a couple of minutes," he reasoned as he leaned in to kiss her neck. Clarke laughed, tilting her head to the side to grant him better access, before finally putting her hands on either side of his face and bringing their lips together. The kiss wasn't deep, but it made Clarke's toes curl in her boots, and when they pulled apart, they were both breathing a little harder. Bellamy tilted his head back and kissed her nose and her cheeks before resting their foreheads together. "You think we should maybe go back inside?" There was a cheer and a scream from inside and the two of them looked at each other and laughed.

"Yeah, we should probably rejoin them," Clarke agreed, sliding down from the railing and grabbing his hands. "Let's go." Bellamy grinned, letting her drag him back into the club house, and back into the family that she had made him a part of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was it !  
> Please let me know what you guys think - and thank you so much for your support throughout the story :)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you pretty people think :) Reviews are love .


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